


Three Heads of The Dragon

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 13:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 80,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3938413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spider and a sun princess conspired to keep the last of the dragons alive and out of King's Landing, now their efforts must bear fruition, for the Iron Throne belongs to the dragons, and the dragons will take what is theirs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Mother's Desperation

**8 th Month of 283 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Princess Elia Targaryen nee Martell**

The news she had so dreaded had come two days ago, her husband Prince Rhaegar had died on the Trident alongside her uncle Prince Lewyn Martell of the Kingsguard. Her husband’s attempt to soothe things over with the rebels had ended very badly, that much was clear, he always was a bit more of a dreamer than someone who knew the realities, and his taking of the Stark girl whilst necessary had not been done in the right way. She worried for her children and for her goodmother and goodbrother, the King had reacted with wroth when told of his son’s death and had burnt the man who had delivered the message. It seemed Aerys would look to her and her children next and that worried her. It truly worried her she could not allow that to continue.

The Queen was not someone Elia could talk to about her fears, the Queen was a broken husk of a woman, she was not the strong person she had been even a year ago this war had damaged her beyond repair. She was going to be sent to Dragonstone with Viserys, away from the wrath of the rebels and away from Elia and as the king called them, the filthy Dornishmen. That was something that Elia was grateful for but also worried about. Gods alone knew what would happen to the Queen and her son when the rebels came. She was determined that whatever happened to her personally, it would not happen to her children.

That was why she had decided to meet with the master of Whispers, her husband’s closest ally other than Arthur. Lord Varys was a strange man of stranger origins, Rhaegar had told her that the man was distant kin to him, though how he had never specified, regardless the man was trusted and knew some things that even Elia did not. And so it was to him she asked. “What do you know of the rebels and their movements Varys?” they were in some secluded corner of the Red Keep where none would dare look for them, Arthur was stood somewhere close by.

The eunuch looked at her a moment and then in a deep voice said. “Robert Baratheon is high off of the victory he has won. And yet your children provide too serious a threat to ensure their safety. He will want them killed one way or another. He will not do the deed, but either Jon Arryn or Tywin Lannister will.”

“So the old lion has finally decided which side he is on.” Elia says.

“Indeed he has my princess. He is nothing if not a practical man, and Aerys and Rhaegar slighted him one too many times for him to try and do anything else other than side with the rebels. For one thing, there is always the chance he could get his daughter as queen. Baratheon might be betrothed to Lyanna Stark but the girl will be soiled now, and Baratheon might well not want her when he realises the truth. There is chance for Cersei there.” the eunuch responds.

“The man has fought the war for her, I doubt he will give up on her that easily my lord.” Elia responds.”

“He will if he thinks her dead. Tywin Lannister will stop at nothing to see his daughter on the throne. The man will come for you and your children, when the time comes. After all my sources tell me that he has marched from Casterly Rock and is force marching  his host to beat the northmen here.” The eunuch says.

Elia swallows, she knows Tywin’s reputation and she has often wondered why Rhaegar felt happy working with the man. “And that does of course mean we will be removed from this world by force. I cannot allow my children to suffer that fate Vars. They will not become martyrs for a cause.”

“It is good then that I have found replacements for them. A child of a cousin of mine is coming this way and will be here shortly. And of course there is your uncle’s daughter. Both look like the children they are replacing, and so it should not be hard to fool anyone, so long as you play your role convincingly my princess.” Varys says.

“Of course, I will not give the plan away. The question is what will stop Pycelle and others from telling Aerys? They do not trust me or care for me.” Elia asks.

“Pycelle will do whatever he thinks is in Tywin’s best interests, if he thinks that it will suit his master for the children to be dead they will be dead. As for the others, Velaryon is dead, Staunton is dying, there is no one else here who could counter act you or me in saying the replacements are who we say they are.” Varys says reassuringly.

Elia nods and then asks. “And what of the ship, is there enough space and time for us to get enough of their belongings on it before people begin asking questions?”

“There will be my princess. The man who captains the ship is a good friend of mine and he will do as I ask. Rest assured there will be more than enough time for you to get their things ready and on board before anyone begins asking questions.” The master of whispers replies.

“And the man knows to go to Sunspear. My brothers will be expecting the ship.” Elia says.

“Of course my princess. He knows to go to Sunspear and nowhere else. The man knows to sail straight to Sunspear without delay. He will be there by the time word comes of what happens here. Are you certain you do not wish to join your children?” Varys asks.

Elia shakes her head. “No, for this to work properly, I must be here. Otherwise the rebels will never let my children live. They must grow and I must stay here.”

“A brave sacrifice my princess.” Varys says softly.

“A sacrifice any mother would make.” Elia replies.

The eunuch looks at her for a moment and then says. “Your sacrifice will not go in vain my princess. I promise your son and daughter shall be safe and well looked after during their journey.”

“I know you will Varys, otherwise I will kill you myself before I die.” Elia responds.

The eunuch titters nervously before walking out with her, he bows once when they get to Arthur and says. “Be ready for the full moon reaches its peak. That is when the ship will set sail.”

Elia nods and watches him go, once he has gone, she turns to Arthur and asks. “Did you hear all of that?”

“I heard most of it my princess. And he is speaking true, there was not a lie in what he said. I checked with our own sources, and it all seems true. The man who is commanding the ship is Monford Velaryon, the man who was loyal to Prince Rhaegar during the troubles.” Arthur responds.

“Good at least one of our own men shall be there ensuring that Aegon and Rhaenys are safe.” Elia responds, she looks at him a moment and says. “I know you will be with them, but you are just one man, Monford knows how to play the game on a more base level than you Arthur.”

Her friend laughs softly. “That he does, I suppose it makes sense. Having all of us Dornishmen on one ship for the duration of the journey to Sunspear, we would all kill each other.”

Elia laughs at that. “Very true Arthur, very true. Then again, I would rather have Dornishmen and women with my children than any of these snakes from the capital. Mors was right, these people know nothing but treachery and deceit. It ate away at Rhaegar you know, knowing what his father was becoming, only to have to do something as drastic as he did.”

Arthur looks at her and says. “I know. Rhaegar was a man who was determined to see the world set to rights, but he did not know how to do it without going alone. He paid the price for that.”

Elia nods. “He did, and I am sorry for that. But my children should not pay the price for it.”

“Indeed they should not. Come my princess let us walk away from here.” Arthur says extending an arm.

She takes it willingly and they walk from the secluded corner and back to her rooms. She spends the rest of the day avoiding the rest of court, packing her children’s things. Arthur stands guard, keeping everyone else at bay, she spends time with her children once their things are packed. Knowing that deep down inside that this will be the last time she will get a chance to see them, or even hold them. she will not get to see them grow, will not be there when Rhaenys has her first flowering or when Aegon first fights with a wooden sword, the thought is more than enough to make her want to cry, but instead she remains firm and plays and hugs her children tightly. She listens intently as her daughter and son babble at her about this, that and the other, she smiles and laughs with them, showing them in the way she knows how that she loves them, she loves them with all her heart and nothing will ever change that.

Eventually it nightfall comes, and it is time to see her children off. She carries Aegon, and holds Rhaenys hand, as they walk hooded and cloaked, Ser Arthur walking with them, an ordinary couple and their children walking to the docks. When they get there, Mors is waiting for them. “Everything is on the ship sister.” Her brother says. “Nothing went missing and all is in order.”

Elia looks at her brother and softly replies. “Thank you Mors. If you could give me a moment.”

Her brother nods. “Of course, Arthur do you want to come with me so we can go over the specifications?” Arthur nods, and looks one last time at her and nods his head and walks onto the ship.

The members of the household guard who had followed at a discreet distance during their journey, now stand there making sure none else come looking. Elia kisses her son’s hair and whispers to him. “My sweet, sweet boy. I love you so much Aegon, so very much. I will miss you, but I know you will become a great man and a great king. Mama loves you my sweet boy.” She kisses his hair and then his cheeks before giving him to Errol Wyl, a cousin, her son looks at her sleepily he yawns and then his eyes close. Her heart feels as if it is going to break when she bends down and looks at her daughter who looks confused.

“What happening mama?” her three nameday old daughter asks, her eyes wide.

“You’re going on a journey Rhaenys my little dragon.” Elia says fighting to keep her voice calm.

“A journey? Like in story?” Her daughter asks.

“Yes my sweet like in a story. A nice journey to a land far away, of sun and sand. Where there are no spiders or mice to hurt you.” Elia says.

“Balerion will like it there.” Rhaenys replies speaking of the cat who is somewhere in her daughter’s person.

“Yes, he will. And you will like it there as well my little dragon, there will be many children there for you to play with. Your cousins. You remember them no?” Elia asks, her voice beginning to shake.

“Yes mama. Cousin Arianne, and her laugh. And Uncle Dowan.” Her little dragon replies.

Elia can feel the tears beginning to threaten to break free. She takes a deep breath and says. “Exactly my sweetling. You must follow uncle Errol and get onto the ship. I will see you soon I promise.”

Her daughter is looking at her with so much trust it breaks her heart. “You pwomise mama?”

“I promise my little dragon. Be brave now for your brother. You are his older sister, you must protect him do you understand?” Elia asks.

“Yes mama.” Rhaenys says nodding her head.

Elia kisses her daughter and hugs her. “I love you my little dragon, never forget that mama loves you.”

“I love you too mama.” Rhaenys says.

Elia lets go then and allows Errol to take her daughter’s hand, and she watches as her daughter gets on the ship. She stands there until her daughter has disappeared and the ship has set off. Her children might be dragons, but they are also Martells, and they will remain unbent, unbowed and unbroken.


	2. A Broken Sword

**9 th Month of 283 A.C. Sunspear**

**Ser Arthur Dayne**

The journey to Sunspear from King’s Landing had been eventful. Monford Velaryon was a very good sailor and he had managed to navigate the sometimes troubling waters of Blackwater Bay, allowing their little ship to set off and sail somewhat easily from the dock of King’s Landing and out into the narrow sea. It had been when they had actually gotten onto the narrow sea that things had become interesting, there were ships patrolling the area, determined to catch anyone looking to cause treason and support the rebels. More than once Arthur had feared that one of these ships would come and stop their own, and ask to search it, had that happened they would have been sunk and Aerys wroth would have been something terrifying to behold. Luckily, none of the ships did as such, and Arthur could not help but wonder if that was because of the Seahorse that was flying at full mast, there was power in that Seahorse in the narrow sea. The children had been relatively docile, Rhaenys had asked after her mother a few times and Arthur had lied to her and said her mother would be coming soon, on another ship, the lie tasted bad on his mouth, and his heart broke knowing they would never see Elia again. Her daughter was a curious child, always asking questions from the deckhands and the crew, and absorbing what she had learnt and doing those things that children do. Her brother, Prince Aegon, had just seen his first nameday and as such was walking and babbling away, he was a sweet child. Arthur felt protective of them both, they were not only his princess’s children, they were Rhaegar’s, and he would protect him with his life.

Rhaegar, his prince who had been so determined to fulfil the prophecy of the three heads. There had been a lot of misunderstanding about the wording of the prophecy, a lot of things that his prince, one of the smartest men he had ever known did not understand, that Arthur as a Dayne knew, but could not tell him. His family had sworn themselves to secrecy on the matter of the prophecy and until the chosen few were of age, they could not speak of it. It pained him to think that if he had told Rhaegar something, just one piece of information the whole course of the past two years could have been different, perhaps he might not need have run away with the Stark girl. Perhaps the Starks would still be alive, and then he would think of what the words had said, and he would know that that had been inevitable. Rhaegar had to lay eyes on the Stark girl, and it had to be her who was taken. Gods it pained him to think of it, his prince would have been a good king, not a great one, no that role was saved for his son, but his prince would have been a very good king, and the realm would have been more ready for the threats about to come. Now, now he was not so sure, gods it hurt him to think on it.

They had arrived at Sunspear some three weeks after leaving King’s Landing, navigating treacherous waters near the Stormlands, the Redwyne fleet had nearly stopped them, but once more the Seahorse of Velaryon had gotten them through, for Paxter Redwyne was no idiot, not like his goodbrother, and he knew what would happen if he stopped a Velaryon ship. There was power in the name. Sunspear had been bustling with activity, and at first Arthur had suspected that Doran and Oberyn had been planning for their arrival much longer than Elia or Mors had said, and as such it was the case that when they disembarked from the ship, Oberyn was there to greet them, looking tall and handsome as ever. Oberyn had greeted him as a brother, none of the hostilities of the previous year were evident. Of course Mors had been welcomed into the fold as well, back from his exile as it were. They had reached the Tower of the Sun, where Doran had greeted them and then told Arthur the news, and even though he had been expecting it, it still stung. The Sack of King’s Landing had occurred, and Elia would never breathe another breathe again. “It is said that when the usurper was presented with her body and those of who he thought her children, he said he saw no people only dragonspawn.” Oberyn says through gritted teeth.

“A monster, only a monster could say that. He is no true man or knight.” Arthur responds.

“The Demon of the Trident he is called by the people, for his exploits on the field of battle. He might well have doomed us all to the reign of the lions that our mother talked about when she lived.” Mors says.

“The children will be safe here,” Doran says as if sensing Arthur’s worry. “The usurper and his dogs were convinced of the reality that those children with Elia were hers. They will not think to look here for them. Especially as the maester and Tywin Lannister have said they are hers. Baratheon and Arryn are not the bravest of men, Lannister has done the deed they would not wish to speak of for them. He will be rewarded for it.”

“Tywin Lannister is a craven, he waited until the last moment to show his true colours. He and Rhaegar had made a pact that Lannister would support him no matter what happened at Harrenhal. And yet the man did not come. He is a traitor and must be punished.” Arthur says.

“He needs to die, that is what he needs to do. He killed innocents to sate his own bloodlust and appeal to that of the usurper. There is nothing else that need be said about him or his dogs.” Oberyn growls.

“Who was it who he sent to do the deed?” Arthur asks.

“Varys wrote that Lannister sent a brute to do the deed. He had the brains of the child on his hands as he raped and then killed Elia.” Doran says his voice close to breaking.

Anger stirs in Arthur like a viper waiting to strike. “What was this savage’s name?”

“I do not know, I believe it was a Clegane.” Doran says.

Arthur nods. “All the same he will meet his death just as Tywin Lannister will.”

Mors speaks then. “The usurper will expect you to either put up some resistance or to bend the knee now that Elia is dead brother. Too much resistance and questions will be raised over why this is so. For as far as the realm is concerned our reason for fighting has just died. Of course Aegon and Rhaenys remain alive, but we cannot let anyone outside the most trusted of lords know that. Things are too uneasy for much else to be done.”

“Viserys Targaryen and his mother remain on Dragonstone at present. And though the loyalist lords have bent the knee, if you Oberyn were to cause some sort of trouble it would be believable, yes it would make the realm worry there was more war to come, it would also mean that we can develop a set up for Aegon and Rhaenys and take them to the Water Gardens. Such an action would prompt the usurper or his hand to come here and negotiate terms, and from there we can gauge the position of the usurper and his allies.” Doran says.

“Are you asking me to deliberately cause you a headache brother?” Oberyn asks with some amusement.

“I am. We must have a distraction so that a journey to the Water Gardens does not look to a miss, to those who will be spying on us. Our enemies have the advantage now and we must make them continue to think we do.” Doran says, he takes a deep breath and then says. “The Wyls and others like them will support you in your action Oberyn, go to them and speak with them. Get the support going, and when the time is right I will tell you to stop.”

Arthur looks at the Prince of Dorne in surprise and asks. “You are truly willing to disrupt your rule for this ruse my prince?”

“I am willing to do what must be done to ensure that my nephew and niece are safe. They will be safe in the Water Gardens with you and our men there to protect them. Here in Sunspear there are too many eyes and ears which I do not trust. Oberyn’s trouble making will be good cause for reminding the Dornish lords what we have just lost. Let them think my inaction is because of grief, and let Jon Arryn come here to negotiate terms. We will get the terms we need to ensure that Dorne is left alone now that the usurper sits the throne.” The Prince of Dorne responds.

Oberyn speaks then. “There is one other issue that we have not yet discussed. The usurper is betrothed to the Stark girl and will more than likely move the heavens and the world looking for her. As will her brother. We all know where she is. What do we do with her?”

Arthur looks at the red viper then and he suspects he knows what the man is hinting at. “Are you suggesting we move her from the tower?”

“I am suggesting that we remove her ourselves. She is nothing but a burden now that Rhaegar is dead. Should the usurper find out that she was held here in Dorne, he will march to war and then all of our hard work will be for nought. She must be moved away from Dorne.” Oberyn says.

“I do not think Gerold and Oswell will allow that. Either they will look to board a ship or they will die fighting to protect the girl and her child.” Arthur responds.

“Then they are fools. The girl is worth more alive than stuck in a tower in the middle of the desert.” Oberyn says.

“And yet, she will be heavily pregnant at this point. Moving her is more like to kill her and the babe she carries than anything else. And I do not know about you brother, but I am no killer of innocents.” Mors says softly.

The red viper sighs in frustration then and says. “Then I do not know what to do with her. Leaving her there, means it is harder for the rebels to find her, but it also means that it could leave us open to an attack from the usurper should he think we had anything to do with this.”

Arthur speaks up then. “My sister knows Eddard Stark, and she seemed convinced that should Stark ever learn where his sister was kept, he would not be so foolish to tell Baratheon. Of course, if the girl gives birth to a child then Stark will be doubly bound to ensure that Baratheon does not know.”

“What would be done with this child when it is born? Should it be raised here or should it go with Stark?” Oberyn asks, his voice strained.

Mors speaks then. “The child must go with Stark, and Stark must find his sister at the Tower. We can guide him to the tower, but we cannot openly tell him. If we do then that could change the course of the usurper’s reign, and that would not end well for us or anyone else.”

“So we allow Stark to find his sister, and if there is a child to take the child back. That is asking a lot from a man who is friends with the usurper.” Oberyn says unconvinced.

“It is what needs to happen brother,” Mors responds. “Anything else, and any plans we make now will not go through.”

Before Oberyn can respond, Doran speaks. “Mors is correct brother.  Mors send word to Stark and tell him where he can find his sister, I do not need to tell you about the need to be discreet. We shall allow him to find her and do as he will. Arthur you are to go with my nephew and niece to the Water Gardens, Errol will go with you. As for you Oberyn you will ride out tonight and begin stirring things.”

They all nod and stand, but before he leaves Arthur turns and asks. “What should I tell King Aegon and Princess Rhaenys about their mother?”

A pained look crosses the prince of Dorne’s face then. “They are children Ser Arthur, but I would not lie to them. Break it to them gently.” Arthur nods and with a heavy heart leaves the room.

 


	3. A Northern Showdown

**10 th Month of 283 A.C. Tower **

**Lord Eddard Stark**

The rebellion was over, Robert sat the Iron Throne, Rhaegar was dead, Aerys was dead, and Rhaegar’s children were dead. The image of their bodies at the foot of the throne was still enough to make Ned grit his teeth and clench his fists in anger. Robert was changing something inside of him was changing with that throne now his. His friend had not seen an innocent woman or her children, only dragonspawn as he had called them and that had shocked Ned. He supposed they were lucky that Ser Barristan had not been present for that, otherwise the old knight would most definitely have cut Robert down there and then. Ned had argued with his friend, his brother in arms and left for Storm’s End, where he had relieved the siege, to find the people of Storm’s End near death skeletal and broken. He had taken their thanks and rode on, to the place where he hoped that Lyanna would be.

Lyanna, the thought of his sister made him want to cry out with either joy or anger. He suspected that she was the reason for all this trouble, Robert believe his sister had been taken and raped, Ned however, was not so sure. Something Benjen had said when Ned had returned north had gotten him thinking. Lyanna was not like to do anything she did not want to do, and she had not wanted to marry Robert. But this, all of this, it was too much for him to consider. If what he thought was true then really Lyanna was responsible for the deaths of father and Brandon, for the orphans and dying children and widows that had been created because of this war, and that, that was too much for him to comprehend. Ned looked at the men riding by his side and wondered what they would think should they hear the thoughts going on in his head. Proud Mark Ryswell a man bold as brass, strong Willam Dustin a fighter without peer, quiet and thoughtful Howland Reed, stern Martyn Cassel, Theo Big Bucket Wull, and finally Ethan Brandon’s squire and Lyanna’s love. What would they all make if they knew the thoughts going on in Ned’s head?

The tower came into sight and Ned sped up, digging his heels into his horse, his men riding quickly to join him, the anticipation of what he was to find was killing him. He wanted to see Lyanna now, he wanted to speak to her now. Anything else was just a nuisance and would be dealt with. And considering what he thought to find there, he was not truly looking forward to what would have to happen next. He had seen more than enough death, he did not want to see anymore. Not anymore, for as long as he lived, there was too much of it already, the wood’s witch’s words were coming true and he feared that. He feared it more than he thought he should. The sight which greeted them as they got nearer to the tower caused Ned to groan in frustration, would the gods not give them this one chance? There standing waiting, were two of the most feared knights in the realm, the white Bull Ser Gerold Hightower Lord Commander of Aerys Kingsguard, and his lieutenant, Ser Oswell Whent. Ned looked at them both as he and his men dismounted, the white knights looked at him as well.

“You have been missing for some time Sers.” Ned said as he and his men advanced forward. “I looked for you on the Trident,” Ned said to them.

“We were not there,” Ser Gerold answered.

“Woe to the Usurper if we had been,” said Ser Oswell.

“When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were.”

“Far away,” Ser Gerold said, “or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells.”

“I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege,” Ned told them, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them.”

“Our knees do not bend so easily, unlike our false brothers.” Ser Oswell replies.

“False?” Ned questions. “The Targaryens were mad, they knew not what they were anymore. It seems even the famous Ser Arthur Dayne has realised that considering he is not here.”

“We swore a vow Stark, but then perhaps you have forgotten what that means?” Ser Gerold responds.

Ned can hear his companions bristling behind him but pushes on determined to confirm his suspicions. “Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him. And if you swore a vow, where is your sworn brother Ser Arthur?”

“Ser Willem is a good man and true,” said Ser Oswell.

“But not of the Kingsguard,” Ser Gerold pointed out. “The Kingsguard does not flee.”

“Why are you still here? Your king is dead. His heirs are dead or will be as well. You have no purpose being here. Bend and live. The Kingsguard does not flee you say and yet Ser Arthur is not here. Where has he gone?” Ned asks them.

“Ser Arthur is far away, ensuring the usurper never sleeps easily.” Ser Gerold responds.

“We will not flee Stark. We swore a vow, and we shall continue with it. Until our dying breaths. For we are of the Kingsguard. And we do not flee, nor bend to usurpers.” Ser Oswell replies stubbornly.

“You swore a vow to a man who took an innocent woman away from her home and her family and raped her. You stood guard whilst he did this. You are not worthy to white cloaks you wear.” Ned snarls his anger pushing through.

Ser Gerold snorts. “If you truly believe that, then you did not know your sister at all Stark. There is no time for these discussions, either fight or leave. Either way the child and the queen will not be yours.”

“We are seven, you are only two. Where is Ser Arthur, why is he not here?” Ned pointed out. “What hope do you have?”

“We are the best knights the realm has ever seen. We do not need Arthur, we will fight you and kill you, or die trying to.” Ser Oswell boasts drawing his sword.

Ned sighed and drew forth his own weapon, Ice weighed heavily in his hands. “It does not have to come to this. We can end this now. Just let me see my sister.” Ned pleads one last time.

Instead of answering him Ser Oswell swings at him, Ned manages to duck the swing, and swerve to the side as the man begins moving in on him once more. Ducking and swerving, Ned feels himself begin to sweat, Ser Oswell is showing him why he is such a good swordsman and warrior, the swings continue to come and one or two hit Ned causing him to wince in pain. He knows some of his companions are fighting Ser Gerold, for he can hear the sound of steel clashing somewhere in the background, but his main focus is on avoiding the swinging blows of the black bat.  Oswell Whent manages to hit him once, then twice and then a third time, and on that third time Ned staggers back, just about managing to bring Ice up in time to prevent the killing blow from reaching him.

Ned manages to use his greater body strength to push Oswell back, as the man staggers, Ned sees Ethan Glover come charging at him. Ned decides to do the dishonourable thing and join his brother’s former squire. They swing into motion and as one they swing and hack away at Oswell Whent, the man is skilled, and it shows in how effortlessly he deflects blows, and how well and quickly he manages to turn the tide, swings and slashes from Ned and Ethan turn into parries and blocks as the black bat comes fighting back. Eventually he manages to remove Ethan with a well-timed blow to the chest, he shoves Ned aside and finishes Ethan off with a quick one, two swing and slash. Ned roars as he watches his brother’s former squire breathe his last. He staggers towards Whent and renews his ferocious attack this time joined by Mark Ryswell, Ethan’s cousin.

He and Ser Mark fight like dogs against Ser Oswell, and later Ned knows he will not like what they did, but using trickery and their numerical advantage they manage to bring down the already wounded Ser Oswell, killing him by shoving their swords into him at the same time. The man’s cries ring out as his death comes in blood and pain. Ned pulls his sword out first, but Mark, Mark twists and turns before pulling his sword out and his face looks pleasured at the thought, but then it disappears. He had looked almost wolf like. An unnerving thought but one that Ned has no time to dwell on, turning to where he hears the rest of the fighting, he sees Ser Gerold Hightower fighting Martyn Cassel and Theo Wull, Willam Dustin lies on the ground unseeing, Howland lies next to him clutching his arm.

Ned wants to go to his friend but he knows better than to risk it, he looks at Mark and together they run toward the fighting. Just as they arrive, Martyn Cassel falls down to his knees, bleeding profusely. Before Hightower can swing the killing blow though, Theo Wull has buried his trusted axe inside the man’s skull. As Hightower himself falls to his death, Ned hears Wull say. “Good, die you wee southern bull.”

Ned looks at the bodies around them and as if reading his mind, Martyn says. “Go up the stairs Ned. We will be fine. Go to your sister.”

Needing no further encouragement, Ned sheathes his sword and runs toward the tower, he runs up the steps as fast as he can and as he gets to the top he hears the wailing of a child begin to settle, he has a son himself, Robb, a child he has yet to see. He shakes his head and runs into the room, to see Lyanna there with a wetnurse he presumes and a child at her breast. He falls to his knees at her side. “Lya? Lya are you okay?” Ned asks, his voice sounding panicked to his own ears.

His sister turns to look at him, her grey eyes watery. “Father? Is that you?” she whispers.

Her voice is so soft and broken Ned feels the panic inside of him grow. “No Lya, it’s me, it’s Ned.”

His sister smiles slightly then. “Ned….. I knew you would come. I told them you would come for me. They didn’t listen though.”

“Lya….what happened?” Ned asks trying to control his panic.

“I was stupid Ned. So very stupid. I believed the songs he sang, and went away with him. He lied to me, father and Brandon are dead because of me. They’re all dead because of me. And now I will be joining them.” Lya whispers.

“No! No you will not Lya. Stay with me, come home, please Lya come home!” Ned whispers forcefully.

His sister looks at him and says softly. “My sweet Ned, we both know I cannot make it back. I am dying. But please, please do not let them hurt my babe. Please.”

“They won’t hurt either of you Lya. I promise you Lya. Please come with me, we can go home and you can see Winterfell again Lya, please, don’t leave me.” Ned begs.

His sister looks at him and her eyes are blown wide from what he knows not. But her voice is desperate now. “Promise me you will protect my son, promise me Ned. Don’t let them get to him.”

His sister is gripping his hand tightly now, and Ned can feel it begin to hurt. Still he responds as confidently as he can. “I promise Lya, I promise.”

His sister’s eyes relax then as does her grip on his hand. “Good, I knew you would. You will be a good father to him.”

Lya’s eyes close then, and her breathing slows, her hand is still clasped tightly in his hand but that too eventually ends up loosening. Ned looks at her and whispers. “Lya?” he repeats her name several times but when she does not reply, he begins crying silent tears. Tears for his sister and for all he has lost.

He knows not how long he kneels before his sister’s body, her hand still clasped in his, the tears having dried on his face, but the sound of her son crying, wakes him from his stupor. He goes to pick the child up but the wet nurse who had been silent through it all takes the child and soothes it with her teat. Ned merely looks at the wetnurse and the babe, his nephew, briefly, before looking at Lya’s body. The sound of footsteps brings his attention to the entrance to the room, and he sees Theo and Ser Mark standing there looking at the scene before them. “How are Howland and Martyn doing?” he asks.

“Martyn is doing well, the bleeding has stopped somewhat. Howland…. Howland is not doing so well my lord.” Mark replies.

Ned nods trying to take it all in. he looks at the babe then and realises he needs to decide what to do with it, he walks toward the wet nurse and asks. “May I hold him?”

The wet nurse gives him the babe hesitantly, and he cannot really blame her, he does not know what to do with a babe having never really held one before, but he manages to hold it without dropping the child. It hits him then that this child is perhaps one of the few remaining Targaryens alive, a threat to Robert and his heirs, but also the last link to Lyanna that he has. So many problems will come from his decision, something which is made harder by the fact that the child has violet eyes.


	4. A Princess

****

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. The Water Gardens**

**Princess Rhaenys Targaryen**

Rhaenys Targaryen looked at the sleeping form of her brother and wondered just how it was possible that after what they had just done her brother could always sleep so peacefully, whenever they had finished making love, Aegon would cuddle her for a few moments and then drift off to sleep, whereas she was always filled with energy wanting to do more. A few times she had woken him up by straddling him or sucking him off, and they had gone for it once again. This time though she allowed him to sleep, they had had an interesting day, and she knew he needed his rest. It was early still and the Water Gardens were quiet, a different tale to how they would be in a few hours’ time when they came to life with the sound of children laughing and playing. Rhaenys smiled at the thought, the Water Gardens were her home, and they had been for fourteen years now, she could not imagine a time when she had not lived here. King’s Landing was all but a distant memory as was the Red Keep, and that made her somewhat sad, she had tried when she was young to never forget the Red Keep and the place that had been her home, but as the years had worn on her memories of the place had faded. Her memories of her mother had not, she remembered her mother, a beauty, brown skin and black hair, and loving eyes, she remembered her mother well. Her father not so much, perhaps that was for the best.

Growing up in Dorne had been great fun, playing in the Water Gardens with her cousins and their friends had been some of the best times of her life. They would always play some game or the other, laughing at the pranks they played on Garin or even Gerris, and they learned many a thing here. Like the best time to eat blood oranges, the best way to get the older children to do what they wanted them to do. And of course how to kiss. Rhaenys smiled slightly as she remembered the first person she had ever kissed. Andrey Dalt, they had been but nine namedays old at the time and it had been sweet. That had been before Aegon had been old enough to know anything more than swords and swimming. But once he had been, well Rhaenys had not had any time for any of the other boys. She and Aegon had done almost everything together, all of Aegon’s firsts had been shared by her and she loved her brother deeply. They were one and the same, she and her brother. One and the same. Something all knew, even the girls Aegon slept with knew not to cross him or they would deal with her.

Their family was a happy one, uncle Doran the ruling Prince of Dorne had retired to the Water Gardens recently due to his gout, something that had left him increasingly unable to move without the aid of a chair, it was a saddening thought for Rhaenys, when she remembered just how active and lively her uncle had once been. Her uncle Oberyn did most of the ruling in Sunspear now acting as uncle Doran’s voice in the meetings of the council, and acting as the voice of reason for Arianne’s hot-headedness. Rhaenys smiles at the thought of Arianne, her cousin, a lovely girl and a very attractive one, she was smart and caring and Rhaenys loved her deeply. Quentyn she did not know truly, but she felt sorry for him growing up with the Yronwoods a house that had many untasteful qualities. Then there was little Trystane who Rhaenys adored, he was a cute little boy and she loved him dearly. Then there were the Sandsnakes, her uncle Oberyn’s daughters, all of whom were fierce and deadly in their own way, Rhaenys loved them all, but she reserved special affection for Nymeria and Tyene who often shared her bed along with Arianne when Aegon was otherwise occupied.

“What are you thinking about so loudly sister?” her brother’s voice asks bringing her back to the present.

Rhaenys looks at her brother then, his violet eyes open and looking at her intently, as always Rhaenys feels the heat fill her body at his look. “I was merely thinking about our family is all my love. I did not wake you did I?”

Her brother yawns and then pulls her to him. “No Rhae, but I did miss your warmth. You should never leave my side. I don’t feel right without you by me.”

Rhaenys snuggles up to her brother and says. “I will never leave you if I do not have to brother. You know that. We are two of the same whole.”

Her brother kisses her then and when he pulls away she likes that his cheeks are slightly rosy. “Tell me what new observations you have made about our family whilst I slept.”

“Well I know for one thing that Quentyn’s continued presence in Yronwood cannot be good for us. There is something off about that family, something I cannot place my finger on but I do not like it. Not one bit.” Rhaenys says.

She looks up at her brother and sees that he is thinking hard. “Do you think they could be plotting something? Something that might well thwart our plans?”

Rhaenys shrugs and nestles in closer to her brother’s arms. “I do not. But there is something going on there, Anders Yronwood is a man who is always plotting something or the other. The mere thought of him gives me the creeps. I know Quentyn is a nice lad and all, but there is most definitely something going on there.”

“Do you think it could have something to do with our uncle and aunt?” her brother asks looking at her intently. “I know that Viserys and Daenerys are still somewhere in Essos, and Yronwood has contacts in Essos. Do you think they could be plotting something with our uncle?”

“I do not know brother. I would not put it past Yronwood to do something like that. The man is too ambitious by half.” Rhaenys replies.

Her brother hums in agreement. “That would make sense. After all Ynys did say something about her father having gone away a lot recently. She seems to think he is going off to Essos for some merchant venture or the other. And there is the fact that he keeps receiving envoys from Pentos on trade missions. She seems to think he is merely trying to outplay uncle Doran in the trading field, but now that you mention it there is something highly suspicious of all of this.”

As always, Rhaenys feels a pang of jealousy when her brother mentions his lovers, she knows he does not love any of them the way he loves her, but still. “And what else did the slut say?” she asks keeping her voice level.

Her brother looks down at her and kisses her again, reassuring her as he always does. “It seems House Allyrion might well be in on whatever it is that Yronwood is planning. Her betrothed Ryon has been visiting various places in Essos negotiating trade deals as well, supposedly to further the interests of House Allyrion, but truly I suspect it is to build support for Yronwood and our uncle.”

“What could make such a powerful family that has done well under uncle Doran look to side with the scum that are House Yronwood?” Rhaenys asks.

She feels her brother shrug and can hear the uncertainty in his voice when he replies. “I do not know sister. Perhaps they hope to expand their power under the Yronwoods. After all uncle Doran has put restrictions in place for a reason. I think the Yronwoods would break those restrictions or remove them if they came into power.”

Her brother looks down at her then and asks. “Should we tell uncle Doran and uncle Oberyn? I am sure they will want to know.”

“More than likely they already know. There is nothing that happens in Dorne that uncle Doran does not know about. The question is why is he allowing the Yronwoods and the Allyrions this much leeway to expand their power base? It does not make sense to me.” Rhaenys responds,

Her broths moves slightly, and Rhaenys can feel the heat in her begin to grow as she feels his muscled arms press against her. “Perhaps uncle Doran is merely allowing to expand their power base, making them think they are so clever, when really he is setting them up for a fall.”

Rhaenys looks at her brother then, desire filling her fully. She leans up and begins kissing them, when he kisses her back she groans as she feels heat begin to fill her belly. The want she feels for her brother grows and grows. She pushes her brother back onto the bed and begins straddling him. “Do you want to go again?” she asks her eyes filled with heat.

As her brother runs his hands up and down her arms and her stomach she shivers slightly. “I want to go again and again until we can never go again sister.” Her brother replies his voice hoarse with want.

She smiles slyly and leans down and begins kissing her brother something fierce, she takes great pride when she pulls away and he groans in protest, she begins moving down his body, peppering it with kisses until she comes to his manhood. She looks at him his eyes are hooded and her own body feels filled with fire, she begins stroking it hardening it some more, and just as she is about to put it in her mouth, there is a knock on the door. Rhaenys lets go of her brother’s cock and calls out. “What is it?”

Ser Arthur’s voice comes out apologetically from beyond the door. “My Queen I am sorry, but Prince Doran wishes to see you and the King.”

Rhaenys looks up at her brother who groans once more. “Do you know what about Ser? We are currently busy doing something.” Rhaenys responds.

Her brother laughs, and she can hear the laughter in Ser Arthur’s voice when he responds. “It seems that your uncle has something important to discuss with the both of you.”

Looking up at her brother, and seeing him nod Rhaenys calls out. “Very well, we shall be there in a moment. Just give us some time.”

“Of course my queen.” Ser Arthur calls back.

Rhaenys kisses her brother’s cock and then stands up. She begins getting changed, putting on fresh clothes for the day. She will come back and have a bath later, and then she will enjoy her brother a bit more. Aegon himself merely lies in bed for a long time until she throws something at him and he begins to move putting his breeches back on and putting a shirt on, of course he is dressed in black as always. His silver hair is growing, and he has the beginnings of a beard forming. Her brother looks handsome, but he looks more so now than he has done before. Her heart always quickens when she sees him and today is no different. He must notice her staring at him for he smiles and says. “Shall we proceed Rhae?” she takes his proffered arm and then walk through the open door and through into the hall.

They walk in silence to their uncle’s solar, all the while wondering what it is that their uncle wishes to speak to them about. When they arrive Rhaenys is surprised to see her uncle Oberyn there. She gives a little squeal and goes to him hugging him tightly and asking. “When did you get here?”

Her uncle laughs slightly and replies. “I got here a few moments ago. Doran wished for me to come and so I did.”

Her brother speaks then. “What did you wish to speak to us about uncle Doran? Have I done something wrong?”

They all laugh then, Aegon’s penchant for mischief is well known. Her uncle shakes his head. “No you have not. I have asked you both here today, because there is something you have long wanted to know.” He pauses then wincing slightly at the pain in his legs. “The usurper grows less powerful by the day, our allies are working to bring down his power in all of the kingdoms, and soon enough the realm will be ready for war. But before that day comes, you must know certain things about the rebellion that saw the man there. Your mother, as you know, remained in King’s Landing to ensure that the ruse that had been put in place to ensure your safety remained strong. She paid for that with her life, and yet both of you are now here. Your father did indirectly cause the rebellion when he ran away with Lyanna Stark, and that has been something I have often wondered about. I do not know why your father ran away with the girl or even why he chose her, but I do know where they stayed during their time away from the world.”

Rhaenys looks at Aegon then and can see the anticipation and the desire for more information reflect in her brother’s eyes. She takes his hand and squeezes. “Where uncle?”

“In a place called the Tower of Joy. An old watch tower that was abandoned many years before the rebellion. It is there they spent their days, whilst the realm bled.” Their uncle replies.

“Why are you telling us this?” Aegon asks.

“Because it is time you learnt the full truth of what happened during the rebellion and even the years preceding that. You are going to ride to the Tower of Joy with Oberyn and Ser Arthur and when that is done, you shall know all that there is to know about the rebellion and your father’s role in it.” Their uncle replies.


	5. A Revelation

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Various Locations**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

They set off from Water Gardens shortly after their uncle was finished speaking with them, him, Rhaenys, uncle Oberyn, Ser Arthur and some ten other guards from the household guard at the Water Gardens. They rode off on their sand steeds and rode quickly their uncle was determined to get at least half way to where Ser Arthur said the tower was supposed to be by nightfall. As they rode off Aegon could not help feeling a sense of excitement they were finally going to learn more about their father and the rebellion which had started when he had run off with the Stark girl. For most of his life Aegon had been told that the rebellion had started because his father had chosen the wrong maiden to run off with, that his decision had doomed the Seven Kingdoms to the war that had followed. He had never truly understood that, the fact that his uncles seemed so calm about that fact, when it had been a grievous insult to his mother. He had always thought there was something more to the story than was commonly told. As such news that they were going to the place where his father and the Stark girl had supposedly lived during their time together filled him with both excitement and a sense of dread.

Aegon was not sure whether he truly wanted to know the whole truth about his father’s role in the rebellion that had come following his abduction of Lyanna Stark. He had always had a mixed relationship with his thoughts of his father, on the one hand there was the fact that he was this great man who could do no wrong and yet on the other there was the fact that the one wrong action he had made had resulted in the end of their family on the throne, and Aegon’s mother dying alone and afraid. He was not completely sure he wanted to know the complete reasoning behind his father’s actions, he knew what Jon Connington would say if he were here with them, that his father could do no wrong, but Aegon had long suspected that Ser Jon’s feelings for his father were not merely those of friendship. Regardless as they rode forth from The Water Gardens he could not help feeling both nervous and excited, he looked towards Rhaenys for reassurance and she smiled back somewhat shyly, he hoped they would find this truth out together.

Their horses tired at the scourge and so they set up camp for the night and ate and drank allowing their horses a chance to rest. It was whilst waiting for their food to cook on the fire that their uncle Oberyn spoke. “Now I am sure you are wondering why your uncle Doran asked you to come with me to the Tower of Joy. And I know you have lots of questions, but first and foremost you must learn more about the years that came before the rebellion. You must know the full extent of what your father and mother were doing.”

Rhaenys speaks then. “You mean mother was involved in whatever plotting father was doing uncle? She was not as much a bystander as Maester Pylos would have us believe?”

Uncle Oberyn laughs at that. “Pylos taught you the official history of that time. He is a man who wishes to keep his head from the spears and spies of Robert Baratheon, and Baratheon will never admit to anyone that your father and mother had more of a role in seeing him on the throne than he did.”

“Are you saying father and mother helped the usurper onto the throne?” Aegon asks feeling his anger rise.

Aegon feels confused when his uncle laughs then. “Oh no, nothing like that. Merely that the men who helped the usurper sit the throne took advantage of what your father and mother did beforehand. In fact both Tully and Arryn were involved in the plotting and planning.”

“What do you mean uncle? How could they be?” Rhaenys asks.

Oberyn holds up a hand. “I must tell you it from the beginning. Now of course, you know from your lessons that your grandfather King Aerys and my mother Princess Deria, were kin through a distant marriage many years back. Now when Prince Rhaegar came of age, there was talk of whom he was going to marry. Many lords vied for the honour of giving the Prince of Dragonstone their daughter’s hand. Foremost amongst them was Tywin Lannister who as hand of the king believed rightly or wrongly that his daughter Cersei would be named as the intended for Prince Rhaegar. This of course all took place before Duskendale and the madness that followed that. King Aerys was erratic but was of mostly sound mind, and yet he already feared that people saw his former childhood friend and hand as the ruler of Westeros not him. And so when Tywin made the suggestion of uniting their two families, King Aerys laughed and mocked the hand. He refused the offer and things were tense for a time, but another miscarriage by Queen Rhaella brought the old friends together for a time until Duskendale.”  Their uncle pauses for a moment as he takes a sip of wine. “After Duskendale King Aerys was much changed. He was more fearful and paranoid, he worried that his hand was plotting to remove him and place his son on the throne. He became mistrustful of Prince Rhaegar and increased the amount of watchers on the walls to ensure that no one came or went without his permission. He also became more and more erratic, he began resorting to using wildfire as a means of getting things done, those who questioned him were given to the flames and he made a constant effort to undermine the word of his hand. The issue of Prince Rhaegar’s marriage was still a pressing issue though, and King Aerys determined to see the blood of Valyria run strong in his grandchildren but lacking a daughter to give his son sent his cousin Lord Steffon Baratheon across the narrow sea to Essos to look for a bride of true Valyrian blood.”

Rhaenys speaks then. “But Lord Steffon failed, he found no woman who would fit the king’s needs and description and so he sailed home a failure. But sunk before he could formally give his reasons for the failure to the king. I know this uncle, but what I have never understood is why Lord Steffon failed, how could he have failed considering Essos is teeming with many noble ladies of Valyrian blood?”

Their uncle sighs. “There are those who will say that Lord Steffon failed deliberately that he was working with Lord Tywin in an attempt to push the King toward accepting a marriage between Prince Rhaegar and Lady Cersei, of course none will know now for sure whether this was the case or whether Lord Steffon was looking for someone else. Regardless it makes no matter, for Lord Steffon died, and grieving for his fallen cousin King Aerys began to plunge into the depths of his madness and paranoia once more. Convinced that his hand had ordered Lord Steffon’s death he decided to spite his hand and arranged a betrothal with House Martell a house with known dragon blood through marriages as recently as the king’s great aunt Princess Daella. The Princess of Dorne, my mother, who was angry with the way Lord Tywin had treated her during her visit to the Rock some years previous agreed to the match despite the rumours of King Aerys madness, and so my sister Elia was married to Prince Rhaegar in the two hundred and seventy ninth year after Aegon’s Landing.”

“And I was born some nine moons later. We both know this tale uncle, what has this got to do with my father’s involvement in the rebellion?” Rhaenys asks.

Their uncle chuckles slightly. “Just like Elia you are, impatient as always. I am getting there my sweet. Now, as I was saying your father and mother were married three years after Duskendale, and as such the kingdoms waited eagerly with anticipation when it was announced Elia was with child, for an heir to Prince Rhaegar was most sought after. There was much celebrating when you were born Rhaenys, I remember it well. Of course, there were signs then that King Aerys was not in his right mind. He was heard muttering throughout the feast of traitors and shadows on the walls. There were more and more frequent burnings during this period, and things became too heated between Prince Rhaegar and King Aerys as they argued over everything from the burnings to the most common law. As such Rhaegar retired with his wife and daughter to Dragonstone where he developed his own court. King Aerys continued to grow worse.”

“Did our father begin forming his own court to begin preparing for when he took the throne?” Aegon asks curious.

“Yes, there were plans begin put in motion as the king’s madness grew.” Their uncle replies. A sound close by interrupts what their uncle was going to say next instead he stretches and says. “I will tell you more tomorrow. It is late now, and it is time for us to get some rest.”

Even though he wants to know more, Aegon knows not to protest when his uncle says something in that tone of voice. And so reluctantly he and Rhaenys go to bed, sharing the same tent of course, something they had done since they were little children. As they lie down and get ready for sleep Aegon asks. “What do you think father and mother did before the rebellion?”

His sister rolls over to face him then and her voice is soft when she responds. “I do not know Aegon. It could have been anything, all I know is that there must have been some reason father went with the Stark girl beyond mere lust. Father does not seem the type.”

“He did leave mother and us alone on Dragonstone to do whatever it was he meant to do. Perhaps he was not as good as we both think him?” Aegon asks.

“I do not know, whatever it is perhaps we should wait to hear what uncle Oberyn has to say.” Rhaenys replies before turning over and by the sound of her breathing Aegon knows she has gone to sleep.

Sleep however does not come for Aegon, not tonight at least, he finds himself staring up at the roof of the tent, pondering over many various things. Like what would have prompted his father to abandon his mother and go off and disappear for nearly a year with a girl who was not his wife, and who was betrothed to a Baratheon of all people. And of the dreams he had been having of a dragon in the north, a dragon chained and crying out for something more than what it was getting. That dream disturbed him the most and he wondered whether or not it would mean anything.  Sleep did eventually come for him, and even then it was fitful of he dreamt of a great red dragon fighting a stag and another dragon, this dragon had two heads one was male and one female and they roared and clashed whilst lions danced below.

Aegon woke the next day somewhat tired and groggy but ready to get going, and after a quick breakfast that was what they did. Their uncle seemed determined to keep going until the darkness came once more. And just as he said he would yesterday he told them some more about their mother and father. “Now yesterday I told you that your mother and father had formed a court of their own on Dragonstone shortly after retiring there from court. The people of their court were the young and ambitious, the learned and the martial. All those determined to make a name for themselves at the court of the Prince of Dragonstone. There were many prominent nobles who were part of the court and it was a place of learning, of music and of chivalry. It developed a reputation of being a place where one went if one wanted to have a good time and learn something along the way. Would you not say Ser Arthur?”

The knight who had been silent as a shadow until then spoke. “Yes, I would quite agree my prince. It was something spectacular the court your father and mother had Your Graces. It was something that those who were there were very lucky to be a part of.”

“And what role did you serve in that court Ser?” Aegon asks intrigued.

The knight is silent a moment and then he responds. “I was Prince Rhaegar’s confidant, I believe. And of course his sworn sword.”

Aegon nods and then looks at his uncle expectantly. Oberyn smiles and goes on. “Whilst Prince Rhaegar and your mother built a court around them, King Aerys and the court in King’s Landing fell into a state of disarray. The king’s growing madness manifested itself in the form of fire executions and increasingly harsh laws and taxes, the lords and ladies of the kingdom began to chafe under his kingship and led by the hand himself, the lords of the realm began to approach Prince Rhaegar. They wanted to know how willing the prince would be to depose his father.”

Aegon notices that they have past Hellholt and Skyreach during the journey and yet the son has not yet moved past its highest point yet, they have clearly been moving quite quickly. “And what did our father say?” Aegon asks, his heart hammering.

Their uncle is silent a moment and all Aegon can hear is the sound of the horses hooves hitting the ground. Eventually Prince Oberyn speaks. “Your father did at first refuse to consider it. He still believed that King Aerys could be saved and dragged from the brink of madness, and yet when the prince came to court during the first few moons of his father’s nineteenth year on the throne, and saw the state of his father, with his long hair, and wild eyes and raving speech, he saw just how mad his father had become. There were the burnings of course, the burnings which finally convinced your father that the time had come for King Aerys to be removed. And so he began travelling through the realm meeting with various lords of import discussing terms that could bring them into support his bid for the throne. Your mother remained on Dragonstone playing hostess to many of these lords’ wives and their daughters speaking to them about what a noble king your father would be. And eventually a tourney was decided, a tourney was to be held at Harrenhal as a pretext for a meeting of all the great lords of the realm where they would vote to remove the king and install your father.”

“The tourney of the false spring!” Aegon and Rhaenys say together.

Their uncle nods. “Indeed that is one name for it. It has also been known as simply the tourney of Harrenhal. If things had gone according to plan, then the tourney would have been held and the king would have been deposed for the great lords of the realm were supposed to bring with them enough strength to significantly challenge King’s Landing. And yet at the last moment something changed, someone spoke to King Aerys and informed him of the plot, and he announced that he would be attending. This forced your father and the over lords who had been bent on ensuring change to change their plans and ensure that the tourney went ahead but that there was no plotting or planning going on whilst the king was there.”

“But how did this sow the seeds of the war of the usurper uncle? I am not sure I follow.” Aegon asks.

It is Rhaenys who speaks then. “When father did what he did, it showed the lords of the realm that there was a division in our family. And those lords who were ambitious and sided with our father, would look to side with anyone who could give them what they wanted for a lower price.”

“That is exactly what happened. Now as you know, your father won the tourney, but he did not crown the woman he was supposed to crown. Instead of crowning your mother he crowned Lady Lyanna Stark, the daughter of Lord Rickard Stark and the betrothed of Robert Baratheon. Now many have claimed this is when things began to get tough for your father but that is wrong. Your father was merely acknowledging something that the lady did, nothing more. But there was of course another motive, one which your mother encouraged. For you see there was word during the tourney that the Starks were looking to bow out of the alliance, and this move by Rhaegar was a subtle indication that they should remain for there was something more in it for them.” their uncle responds.

“More in it for them how?” Aegon asks.

“A marriage perhaps? Between father and the Stark girl? Rickard Stark was ambitious enough to think of such a thing. And Robert Baratheon was too much of a hot head even then to suit Stark’s goals whatever they might have been.” Rhaenys responds.

“And mother was okay with this?” Aegon asks surprised.

“Your mother was not happy with it, not even the suggestion of it. But she knew that for things to go as they wished, certain concessions would need to be made, and if it meant sharing her husband with another woman, then she would have to do it albeit reluctantly.” Prince Oberyn responds.

“Is that why father ran away with the Stark girl then? Did he even run away with her?” Aegon asks, feeling as if he is being torn in two, was his father truly that heartless? And what of his mother?

“No that is not why. I spoke with Elia after the tourney and it does seem as though that plan had been abandoned. At least your mother seemed to think so and so they returned to Dragonstone and your mother gave birth to you some seven moons later. But of course by that point there was already more trouble occurring in the capital. The king was preparing to lead an attempt on Dragonstone so convinced was he that his son was plotting to overthrow him. And yet when the king finally decided to make a move, your father was not on Dragonstone, he could not be found. He had gone disappeared.” Their uncle says.

“Where? Where was father? Why did he leave mother?” Aegon asks his heart hammering away.

“He had gone to the riverlands with aid of a former squire Myles Mooton.” Ser Arthur says. “Ser Oswell went with him to ensure that he could get to Harrenhal without bother. He meant to rally his own forces, but ended up getting waylaid by men serving for the king. After that I was summoned and told to go with him the prince to wherever he needed to go. The order came from Lord Varys the master of whispers. And so I obeyed, and I found Prince Rhaegar and Ser Oswell at Harrenhal with Lyanna Stark. From there we rode hard for Dorne, where your mother and both of you were to meet us.”

Aegon can see what looks like a burial ground in the distance and yet his heart is in his mouth. “So why did we not arrive in Dorne? What happened?”

“Brandon Stark learned of his sister’s abduction as it was called, how I do not know, yet he saw fit to ride to King’s Landing and from there the seeds of the rebellion which had been sown by your father and mother’s actions grew into trees and began to cause havoc. Meanwhile your father and Lady Lyanna were at the Tower of Joy. Unaware of what was going on around them, they intended to come forth and declare their coupling, and yet word had come that the king was looking for them both and meant to kill them. And that was something that could not be allowed, and so they remained where they were.” Ser Arthur responds.

“So our father remained in this tower with a girl he took, whilst the kingdoms fell around him? Was he a craven?” Aegon asks his voice showing his anger.

“He did the smart thing. He waited until he thought it was safe to come out, when his father needed him the most. We all thought the rebellion would fail, the houses that supported Robert Baratheon had all been competing on different interests under Rhaegar’s influence but now were united under one man. And that was what hurt us the most. Your father went to the Trident expecting to discuss terms, and he ended up dying.” Ser Arthur says his voice bitter.

Trying to keep the anger in his voice under control Aegon asks. “And what of Lady Lyanna where was she whilst our father went off to fight?”

“She remained at the Tower of Joy guarded by my fellow sworn brothers Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell. They stayed and did all they could to ensure that the Lady was safe and secure, knowing that the enemy could come at any moment. When word came of the sack they remained at the tower planning to escape, but were delayed because the Lady gave birth.” Ser Arthur says.

Aegon’s horse comes to a stop right in front of what looks like a cairn, an odd sight but that is not what has forced him to stop. “What did you say?”

“Lady Lyanna gave birth at the tower. Ashara and Wylla were there as was Maester Yandel. They were all there to aid in the birthing.” Arthur responds. “From what Ashara says, the babe was a boy.”

“You mean to tell us that we have a brother?” Aegon asks, his anger growing.

“Yes my king you do.” Ser Arthur responds.

“Why did you never tell us this before?” Rhaenys asks her voice equally angry.

“Because you were too young and we could not risk the usurper finding out. Where he is presently he is safe, and away from harm. Of course once the usurper is dead, then he might come forth to join you.” Prince Oberyn says.

“You had no right to do that. You had no right to keep that information from us. He is our brother! We had a right to know where he was and that he lived!” Aegon snarls.

“And what would you have done young as you were?” Oberyn asks. “You did not know anything that you know now. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions. But before? Before you were merely children who were at risk of being discovered. As was your brother.”

“Where is he?” Aegon growls. “Where have you kept him?”

“We have not kept him anywhere my king.” Ser Arthur says his voice deceptively calm. “When the rebellion ended Lord Eddard Stark and six of his companions rode for the tower of joy to get Lady Lyanna back. There they found my two sworn brothers, and a fight ensued. My sworn brothers died, as did three of Lord Eddard’s companions, Lady Lyanna did not survive long after that, dying in her brother’s arms.” At this Ser Arthur pauses and then taking a deep breath he goes on. “As for her child, well Lord Eddard claimed him as his bastard and rode north never to look south again.”

The news hits Aegon like a tonne of bricks, he has a brother, an actual brother! He and Rhaenys are not the only Targaryens in Westeros, there is another one of them, but he is in the north. “You allowed the usurper’s best friend to take our brother north and raise him as a bastard? Why?”

“Because doing that was easier and safer than trying to force Stark into giving the child up. Stark would never have done that, and it would have drawn too much attention to you two. You both needed to be kept safe.” Their uncle says.

“You allowed him to be raised a bastard in the north? By a traitor? I cannot allow this to continue, we must ride north and get him!” Aegon snarls.

“We cannot do that brother.” Rhaenys says laying a hand on his arm.

“What do you mean we cannot do that? He is our brother of course we can.” Aegon snarls.

“We cannot do it, because we are supposed to be dead, and our brother believes himself to be the bastard of Eddard Stark. It would be too much for him to handle. Besides the usurper has his hired eyes everywhere, he will know the moment we are in Winterfell that something is not quite right. We must wait and see what happens.” His sister says reassuringly.

“Why must we wait? We should go and get him now!” Aegon insists.

His sister takes his hand then and says. “Because it would put him in danger. We cannot do that to our brother. We must allow him to discover who he is by himself, only then can we go to him and find him.”

Aegon looks at his sister then for a long moment and then eventually sighs. “I suppose you are right. But I will see him.” He turns to his uncle then and says. “Where is this tower? I would see where my brother was born.”

“We are at the tower, or rather where the tower used to stand my king.” Ser Arthur says.

Aegon looks around and then says. “I see no Tower. Only cairns for the dead.”

“That is because after the battle, Lord Eddard and his companions tore down the tower to build the cairns you see. There are four cairns for the four men who fell during the battle.” Ser Arthur says.

Aegon counts them and gets five not four, just as he is about to point this out his sister asks. “There are five cairns Ser Arthur, not four. Who is the fifth one for?”

There is a moment’s silence as they consider this and then Ser Arthur says in surprise. “The fifth one is for me.”


	6. A Ice Bastard

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon Snow**

Winterfell had been his home for as long as he could remember, he had grown up here, playing in the snow with his brothers and sisters, laughing with them and doing as they did. And yet there were times when he felt so very alone. His siblings had a mother and though Lady Catelyn was kind to him she was not his mother and she could not show him all the emotions that a mother could give her child. He cared for his siblings, truly he did but they did not know what it was like to grow up a motherless bastard. He was a motherless bastard. A truly motherless bastard who did not truly belong anywhere, and that hurt it truly hurt. He loved his siblings but they, they would never know what it was like to be alone, to feel alone as he did. There was constantly this feeling that he was a burden on his family and that they would be better off without him. And yet every time he thought of leaving something would hold him back, something tied him to Winterfell and he did not know what it was.

Was it the crypts? The place where he would go if he was upset and needed time to be by himself. The crypts had always held a special attraction to him ever since he could remember he had always been drawn to the crypts. It was not something he could truly explain, the feeling that the only place he could get solace was amongst the dead. It was not normal, as Theon Greyjoy his father’s ward was so oft to point out, he was not normal, and yet whenever he felt scared or alone he would come here and think, and wonder whether or not it was worth it. Was all of this pain he was feeling worth it? And someone would usually answer, a woman, her voice soft and her hair brown, she would answer and tell him of course it was worth it, of course he should remain here with his family, that all would be fine. He never saw the woman with the sad grey eyes who looked so much like Arya, but he knew her voice. He knew it well.

That was why he was in the crypts right now, hidden behind a statue he thought belonged to his grandfather Lord Rickard. He had been having a very bad day, he had not been able to do well in his lessons and had done badly in sparring practice, furthermore, Theon had been having a go at him once again. Calling him a motherless bastard who would never amount to anything. It hurt, of course it hurt being told that, but he was used to it, what he was not used to be Robb not doing anything about it. His brother seemed more intent in flirting with Donella Wull than in doing what he normally did. Jon supposed he should really be able to defend himself by now he was not a child anymore, but there was something that happened to him whenever his lack of a mother and lady Catelyn were brought up that paralysed him a sense of fear of appearing ungrateful. He did not want that, and so he had come here, to hide and to think.

The dreams were the things that were keeping him occupied the most now though, he had shut his eyes in an attempt to stop the visions but to no avail. Dreams of a war, a great battle and a field of fire were plaguing his vision, as they had been for almost a year now, the scenes of a fierce fight where there was death on all sides and nothing more than pain and sorrow and rubies glimmering in the darkness. A man falling to his knees crying a woman’s name out over and over again the vision came, and a crown of blue roses on a wall of ice. That was what he saw, and he did not understand it, he was too afraid to bring it up with anyone for fear of being considered mad. There were other visions as well, of a tower somewhere in a desert, and eight men fighting one another, a bat and a white bull guarding the tower and dying before they could say anything. Whilst a wolf and his companions fought through and some died whilst others remained. The wolf and who Jon assumed to be his mate of sibling, talking whilst a pup was given and talked about. The vision made no sense but he always felt quite sad afterward, he felt for the wolf having to carry a grave secret with him for fear of offending the stag and the lion. He often saw the lion sat on the mound of gold, plotting and planning whilst the stag bled on the ground beneath him. These dreams scared him, almost as much as they intrigued him.

Then there were other dreams, dreams of a dragon of blue and a dragon of red somewhere hot, planning and plotting. Dreaming of a time they could reclaim what was theirs from those who had taken it. And they rode with a viper and the fallen star, to a place where things did not seem right. Where something seemed wrong, and death and tragedy clung like the serving girl had clung to Jon that one time. He did not understand it, but he often felt a connection with the two dragons, some sort of attachment. Some sort of understanding with them, he wanted them to succeed and he wanted to help them. How he did not know, but he wanted to.

The sound of voices drew him from his dreams. He peaked out behind his grandfather’s statue and saw his uncle Benjen and his father walking towards the statue of his aunt Lyanna he strained slightly to hear what they were talking about. “It will be her nameday soon. What are you planning on doing?” he heard his uncle ask.

“A small meal for the family. Nothing more. I do not want to put too much pressure on the cooks.” He hears his father reply.

His uncle snorts. “A small meal? Ned she’s our sister and she would have been thirty namedays old. Surely that deserves more than a small meal?”

“She is not here to celebrate it with us, and besides the children do not know her. What reason would they have to celebrate?” his father asks.

“That is only because you never talk to them of their aunt or their uncle or even their grandfather. What is wrong with you Ned? Even father used to speak of his father and his cousins. Are you ashamed of them is that what it is? Do they not sit well with the honourable Eddard Stark and his lofty standards?” Jon hears his uncle ask mockingly.

Jon is surprised he has never heard his uncle and father argue with one another. “No, it is not because of that Ben. I simply do not wish to speak of the things of the past. It is called the past for a reason and it is better if we do not revisit it.”

“You still blame her then? She was just a girl Ned for god’s sake. She could not know that it would lead to so much chaos.” Benjen responds.

Jon is not sure what his uncle means but he moves closer to where they are so he can hear better, he moves quietly so as not to alert them to his presence. His father sighs and says. “I do not blame her Ben. I never blamed her, she was merely a child, and if anything it was Rhaegar’s fault. Him and father’s with their meddling. It got us to where we are now.”

“And do you blame them for that? You would not be married to Cat, or have your children if they did not do their meddling. Would you truly change that?” Jon hears his uncle ask.

His father’s answer means a lot now, Jon strains to hear more of what they are discussing. Jon hears his father sigh. “No…no I would not. Though I would have Lyanna alive and well if I could. She did not need to die.”

Jon leans back against the statue of his grandfather and sighs. His uncle speaks once again. “And what of the boy? What will you do about him? He needs to know Ned, he needs to know and he needs to know now. It is not right that you have kept it from him for so long.”

Jon perks up then, who is his uncle speaking of. His father’s voice has turned angry then. “I will not speak of this Ben. I have told you many times, I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“And does that promise mean refusing to tell the boy the truth? He does not feel as if he belongs here in Winterfell. Would Lya truly want that? To have her child believe he is nothing more than a bastard.” His uncle asks scorn entering his voice.

Jon is confused now, did his aunt Lyanna have a child? And if so where is this child? His father’s voice is controlled but Jon can hear anger and sadness in it. “She asked me to keep her child safe, and that is what I am doing. He cannot know of it, for it would put him in grave danger. Truly grave danger.”

Jon is even more confused now. He does not understand what his father and uncle are talking about, there was no mention of a child in anything he has read about the rebellion. “What danger could the boy be under Ned? You are Lord of Winterfell, you are the Stark of the North. No one would ever try and do him harm so long as you live. They are all scared of you, and rightfully so.”

“If the Lannisters found out Jon would be in grave danger we all would.” His father says stubbornly.

Jon is leaning as far forward as he can without actually coming out from behind the statue in his desperation to hear what his uncle and father are discussing. “And how would they find out? They do not have spies here, we got rid of them all before the children were even six namedays old. They do not have a chance of finding out. You are being paranoid Ned.”

“Paranoid?” Jon hears his father ask, his voice sounding angry. “You think I am being paranoid Benjen? You who aided our sister in her little escape? You who has never married and never sired children? No I am not being paranoid, I am being sensible. I have a family and a kingdom to look after, I will not tell the boy anything that will harm him or us. And that will certainly do so.”

Jon is not sure what is going on, what boy are they talking about, and why is his uncle arguing with his father about him? His uncle’s voice is mocking then. “Ah yes, because what you are doing now is just as good for the family. The boy thinks he is not wanted here, and is an outcast, your wife struggles to ensure the boy is treated fairly and the rest of the children take their lead either from you or from the others in this castle. You have done a great job there Ned. A truly great job, and besides, if your guess is correct the boy has siblings in the south who will want to know him soon enough.”

Jon’s head is reeling as he hears all of this. His father responds in a cold voice. “That will never happen.”

“Then you are a fool brother, a fool who will see us all killed for your precious honour.” Jon hears his uncle snarl before he turns and walks out of the crypts.

Jon is stuck trying to move from the statue but not move far enough to be seen. His father is still in the crypts standing very still. Jon strains slightly and hears him say. “I am only trying to do what is right.” With that his father walks out of the crypts.

Jon finds himself standing behind his grandfather’s statue for a very long time trying to process all that he has heard. His aunt had a child, a boy if what his uncle and father are saying is true, but where that child ended up and what has since become of it, he did not know. And yet, why was his father refusing to tell the child the truth of his parentage that was something he could share with his cousin, the feeling of disappointment. But then there was another nagging thought in his head, what if they were talking about him? What if the boy that uncle Benjen kept mentioning was him? His father refuses to speak of his mother, even though he has heard rumours but nothing has ever truly made sense.

Jon walks out from behind the statue, and walks out in a daze, his mind is a mess, he does not know what to think anymore. He wants to speak to his father but knows that such a thing would not end well. Out in the courtyard Jon finds himself blinking back tears, unsure of whether to go and speak to his uncle or to go and speak to his father. He does not see the man until he bumps into. “Forgive me.” He says.

The man looks at him then his eyes are a pale colour almost like Jon’s and his hair is covered in dirt and grime. “The blame is on me my lord. I did not see you.” Jon nods and is about to walk on when the man grabs his arm and whispers. “Look to the letters of the young wolf before seeking what you find my lord.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asks.

“Look to the letters.” The man responds before he totters away leaving Jon confused but also slightly more aware of what he has to do.


	7. Starfall

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Starfall**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

He had a brother that thought kept reverberating around in his head, He had a brother, a brother, it was something he had often wondered, for he knew he had a sibling somewhere, it was the only reason his father could have gone off with the Stark girl, that was what his thoughts had been before his uncle and Ser Arthur had told him all of this. Aegon did not know what to make of it all, but he knew one thing, he was angry, angry at Eddard Stark for taking his brother away from him, from making his brother a bastard. What right did Stark have to do such a thing, he had no right. No right at all, Stark had fought to remove his family from the throne, the man was a traitor, and he had made a prince of the blood a bastard, the mere thought was enough to make Aegon angry. He wanted to ride north now and set Stark straight.

What aggravated Aegon even further was the fact that his sister did not seem to share his anger. Rhaenys seemed perfectly calm despite all they had learned. Aegon looked at her as she sat on the bed and asks her. “How can this not bother you sister? How can you sit there so peacefully knowing that our brother is being raised to believe he is worth nothing? That he is being raised to believe he is a bastard?”

His sister looks at him then her violet eyes worried. “Because he is safe. Yes it might not be right that he is being raised a bastard, but it was done so that Stark could keep our brother safe. The man is friends with the usurper, and the usurper would not stop until our whole family was dead. It is better that he be raised a bastard than be dead. He is safe in the north and he has the chance to get to know his cousins. We had that chance as well, why should he not have it?”

“He should be here with us. Stark should have brought the child here, and ensured that he was safe here. Our brother is being raised a bastard, to believe he is worth nothing. Nothing at all. That is not right. He is a Targaryen not a Snow. He deserves to know love.” Aegon fumes.

“How do you know he is not loved in Winterfell? The Starks are renowned for taking care of their own. And no matter the fact that our brother is our brother, he is also a Stark. He has grown up without the fear of being discovered and facing death because of it. He has grown up knowing that he is safe and protected. He might not have the same benefits we do growing up here in Dorne, but he knows his way in the world.” His sister counters.

“Stark should have brought him to Uncle Doran. If he truly cared about our brother he would have done that. Instead he allowed a lie to spread about him and raised our brother as a bastard. Jon does not deserve that, he deserves all the riches and rewards being a Targaryen gives him.” Aegon growls.

“Well Stark most likely thought he was doing right by Jon, after all our brother is the son of Robert Baratheon’s great love. There was not a chance that he would have survived had Stark either proclaimed the truth or given him to uncle Doran. There would have been a greater chance that we ourselves would have been discovered, it is easier to keep the lie going when the subjects of the lie are either not aware or are not altogether. He has grown up safe and in a caring environment surely that is for the best brother?” his sister reasons.

Aegon looks at his sister then his anger giving way to sadness. “I…I just want my family safe. You and he are the only part of father that are left in this world. You are my siblings, I do not want you apart from me.”

His sister’s eyes soften then and she stands then and goes to him and cups his cheek. “I will never leave you Aegon. Never. We will always be together, I promise you that.” She says.

“And Jon? What about our brother? What will we do, how do we get to him?” Aegon asks hating the desperation that colours his voice.

His sister sighs then and says. “I do not know. We cannot ride to Winterfell though, that would be the height of foolishness. Stark would be honour bound to give us over to the usurper, and all our carefully laid plans would go to naught. Especially if you were taken. The hopes of the family rest on you brother.” She kisses him then and Aegon leans into the kiss.

When they pull apart, he can feel his hunger for her growing. But still he asks. “But then what will we do? We need Jon by our side, it is only right, that the three children of Prince Rhaegar, the three heads of the dragon retake the Iron Throne together. We need him by our side.”

His sister smiles then. “He will come to us brother I know he will. The orphans have said as much. And they have never been wrong before nor shall they be wrong now. Our brother will come to us and all three of us shall retake the throne.”

Aegon looks at his sister and asks. “You are certain? The orphans are not playing their own game? They are a curious folk gods alone knows what they truly want.”

“I know that they are not lying brother. They would not lie to me. Not after what happened at my nameday feast. They will tell me the truth and not lie, not anymore. Our brother will join us when the time is right. He will find out about us and he will come for us. Then we shall do what we were born to do.” His sister says.

Aegon sighs and pulls his sister closer to him then, so that their bodies are flush against one another. He kisses her cheeks then and says. “I do not know what I would do without you sister.”

She laughs then. “Be lost no doubt.”

He kisses her again and then asks. “What matter is it that the Daynes want us to deal with?”

“The issue of Gerold Dayne and his claim on the castle and its lands.” His sister responds.

Aegon groans. “Not him, anyone but him.”

His sister laughs softly. “He is nothing compared to you brother. They all tremble at the thought of you meting out justice, just as Aegon the Dragon once did. Gerold Dayne will not be anything once we are done.”

“I would rather kill the man now. Have it done with and spare Edric and Allyria the pain of having to deal with him further. Exile will not be a fitting punishment for such a traitor. Arel was a good man.” Aegon says remembering the man he had once squired for.

“Indeed he was, but he is gone now and Edric will be a good lord.” Rhaenys says.

Aegon sighs once more and kisses her, then he moves and says. “Very well then let us get this over and done with. My lady?” he asks extending her his arm. She takes it with a smile and together they walk out of their room, Ser Arthur following behind a quiet shadow.

Aegon hears Gunthor the herald announce them, and as the members of the court of Starfall all arise, he merely nods and asks them to sit down. He and Rhaenys sit on two chairs just below the dais of the throne of Stars. He looks around at the place he once called home and then speaks. “Thank you all for coming. We are here today to listen to claims put forth by the Daynes of High Hermitage on the lands and incomes of Starfall. Let Ser Gerold come forth and speak his mind.”

The hall goes silent then, and Ser Gerold Dayne, a tall man handsome, with silver hair and violet eyes walks forward. Aegon does not like the man, there is a coldness to him that unsettles Aegon, and there is a darkness in the man’s soul that does not sit well with Aegon. The man’s voice is soft when he speaks. “Thank you, Your Grace. I come before you to present my claim to Starfall. I believe that my claim is justified, after all the law of the lands forbid kinslayers from inheriting land. And I mean to see justice done for my cousin Lord Arel, who was so treacherously slain by his son Edric.”

There is a lot of murmuring at this and Aegon’s eyes narrow. “What proof do you have these most serious of accusations Ser Gerold?” Aegon asks.

The man pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to Gunthor who hands it to Aegon. “The piece of paper you hold in your hand Your Grace, is the proof I offer. It is a letter that contains documents that Edric wrote to his mother’s family in Skyreach about beginning the process to remove your most loyal lord Arel from his seat. Poison was used to remove Lord Arel from this world, and Edric was the one to do it. These letters prove this.”

The letters are clearly forgeries, and they make Aegon incredibly angry, Rhaenys speaks though her voice calm. “And pray tell Ser, how did you come into possession of these letters? Surely if Edric wished to carry out these crimes he would not have left such damning proof lying around.”

Dayne’s eyes glimmer then, and Aegon’s hand curls into a fist. He can hear the lie before the man speaks. “I have many friends and people who trust me at Starfall including the boy’s own aunt Allyria. She was the one who wrote to me telling of her concerns about her nephew and his plots. It was she who discovered the letters and what they contained.”

More murmurs spread across the hall and he hears Edric cry out. “Lies! The traitor lies.”

Aegon looks at his friend willing him to be quiet. He looks back at Gerold Dayne and tries to keep the disgust from his voice when he speaks. “If what you say is true Ser, why then did Lady Allyria go to you and not to the Prince of Dorne, whose duty it is to oversee such things? Why did she write to you and not to her liege lord?”

The man’s eyes begin to narrow then, but his voice remains perfectly calm when he replies. “Because she was worried. The letters she found also involved her goodsister’s family. They are a powerful family and to bring such accusations before the Prince of Dorne without suitable evidence? Well it would have brought too much grief to her, and so she wrote to me. And I counselled patience, and that I would find out what I could.”

Aegon looks at the man, hatred filling his very being. In as controlled a voice as he can manage he says. “And yet Lord Arel died before you could present whatever you had found is that right?”

“It is my king.” Ser Gerold replies.

Aegon can feel his patience already worn thin, beginning to fray even more. He looks at the man and then dismisses him with a flick of his hand. “Edric and Allyria Dayne come forth.” Both come forward, he knows Edric, Edric is his brother in all but name, and Allyria, Aegon has cared for Allyria for so long, so very long. “Tell me, and tell me true, is what Ser Gerold said true in any way shape or form? Did you plot to kill your father Edric? And if so why?”

His friend looks at him with his violet eyes and says. “I did not kill my father Your Grace. I loved my father, I respected my father. I might not have always liked what my father said or did, but I loved him. And I would never dream of killing him.”

“Then tell me why Ser Gerold believes you did?” Aegon asks.

“Because the man is greedy and is a traitor Your Grace. He has always coveted Starfall, he has always believed it to be his through some strange delusion of grandeur. He and his father before him, all the same. They are traitorous snakes who deserve to be cut from this world.” His friend replies.

Aegon looks at his friend and then asks. “And what of those letters he presented? Did you write them?”

“I did not Your Grace. I would never write such letters.” Edric responds.

“He lies Your Grace, he talks with a silver tongue.” Ser Gerold says.

“Quiet, you have had your chance to speak.” Rhaenys snaps.

Aegon looks at his friend and then at Allyria. His voice softens then as he looks at her. “My lady, did you write to Ser Gerold? Did you find these letters?”

“I did neither of those things Your Grace. I am as shocked as you are by the accusations the man makes. I can only think he is doing so to benefit himself.” Allyria replies.

Aegon sees a cut just below her right eye, and his anger flares. “How did you get that cut below your eye?”

Allyria touches the cut and says. “I got it when Ser Gerold came. He cut me and threatened me and Edric with death, should we speak out against him.”

“And why would he threaten you?” Aegon asks.

“Because he wants Starfall, and he wants my hand in marriage to claim Starfall. He would have gone for Ashara, but the Wyls frighten him.” Allyria responds.

There is laughter around the room and even Aegon smiles slightly. “Ser Gerold what do you make of these accusations?”

The man comes forward and says. “They are lies Your Grace. Lies meant to slander my good name.”

“But why would they lie? All of Dorne knows how your family has coveted Starfall for generations and the feud between the Daynes of Starfall and the Daynes of High Hermitage is almost as famous as the feud between the Martells and the Yronwoods. So tell me why I should believe you? You did not present your findings to Prince Doran before Lord Arel died. Lord Arel was a healthy man, a man who did not suffer fools lightly. And now he is dead, and his son is accused of a most convenient crime. So tell me, why should I believe you?” Aegon asks his anger beginning to show through.

“Because I am a knight and a knight does not lie. Because I have always been a loyal man to you Your Grace. I have served and protected you during the times when you needed protecting. I would not lie.” Ser Gerold says.

Aegon looks at the man before him and sighs. “Once I would have believed that, but you have changed in more ways than one Ser, and not all of them good. Power has corrupted you, and there is conclusive proof that it was you who did this deed. None else would dare do something as bold and as rash as this. You have become a danger to the people of Dorne and I cannot allow you to stand firm anymore.”

“Why? You were so willing to turn a blind eye to the rape of the fisherman’s wife, to the pillaging of the border towns. What changed Your Grace, when did you suddenly become a better man than me?” he hears Ser Gerold asks.

“My hands were tied, fool. You acted without my leave or the leave of the Prince of Dorne. I will not allow you to continue on this path of madness. You must stop now or die.” Aegon growls.

“Ah so now you are playing the saint are you? Strange is it not? The boy who cried wolf, is not playing the saviour and noble king. Well Arel needed to die, he needed to go. He was doing things that would have shamed the House of Dayne. He already did that by marrying a Fowler and producing that bastard. I was cleaning house.” Ser Gerold rants.

“So you admit to poisoning him?” Aegon asks anger growing.

“Yes, yes of course I do. I am no craven unlike you Your Grace. I admit when I have done right. I killed him and I enjoyed it. He died and he died screaming, I wish you could have heard it. It was such a beautiful thing. His death.” The man replies

Aegon stands then and says. “Ser Gerold of the House Dayne of High Hermitage, I do hereby find you guilty of the murder of Lord Arel Dayne Lord of Starfall. You will be taken to Sunspear where a formal punishment shall be read out and the appropriate sentence will be given. Do you have anything else to say?”

The man of High Hermitage draws his sword then but before he even moves a foot, the guards have their spears pointing at him. “Very well then, arrest me. Take me back to Sunspear. But know this Your Grace, you are not going to win back your throne. The lions know, or will know about you soon enough. There are enemies here you can do nothing about.”

As the man is being led away, Aegon hears Rhaenys whisper. “Are you okay?”

Aegon looks at her and says. “I will be okay when the man is dead.”

“He will be uncle Doran cannot allow him to live after this.” Rhaenys says confidently.

“It is not uncle Doran I am worried about.” Aegon replies. “It is the Yronwoods and the Allyrions they have connections to him. What is to say they do not intervene? Uncle cannot stop them.”

“They would not dare.” Rhaenys says.


	8. Revelation

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon Snow**

The conversation he had overheard between his uncle and his father kept playing over and over in his mind. It did not make sense, it had never been mentioned that Aunt Lyanna had had a child, and yet father and uncle Benjen seemed convinced that they had. And it seemed father had been keeping this fact a secret from not only the child involved but also everyone else at Winterfell, even Lady Catelyn. It seemed Uncle Benjen was the only one who knew apart from father because he was the one who knew Aunt Lyanna the best. Jon was not sure why his father felt the need to keep it a secret at least in Winterfell, for no one would ever talk about Aunt Lyanna without father’s express permission, and as far as Jon was concerned not telling her child who their mother was, was cruel. There was a sneaking feeling in the back of Jon’s mind that they were talking about him, he did not know who his mother was, but there were rumours that she was Ashara Dayne. It made no sense that his father and uncle had been talking about him, they were not Targaryens, father and Aunt Lyanna would not have slept with one another, the mere thought made him shiver in disgust.

His curiosity was driving him mad, he wanted to know who it was that father and Benjen had been talking about and what it was that had actually happened during that time. For the history books all told the tale that painted a great picture of the king, and whilst Jon was not inclined to disagree with them, he knew there had to be more to it than that. Father never talked about it, and uncle Benjen only rarely spoke about such things. And so he had begun looking around, Robb had sensed something was up and so he had told his brother what he had overheard. Robb had been just as confused as he was, and so together they had begun looking into that time when things had been interesting, when the dragons had begun to lose control. They had found books and notes made by Maester Luwin’s predecessor Maester Walys that talked about some plan or some such that their grandfather Lord Rickard had been planning with the Arryns and the Tullys. It had something to do with increasing the powers of the Lord Paramounts, and it seemed they had managed to convince the Prince of Dragonstone of the need for greater restrictions on the mad king. There was so much information about all the comings and goings in the north from before the Tourney of Harrenhal that Jon and Robb were both quite surprised, they had always believed their grandfather was like their father, that he was an honourable man who did not believe in treachery or treason. But their findings suggested otherwise, it seemed that their grandfather had had no problem speaking with Quellon Greyjoy about raids on the Westerlands and even on Gulltown, and had had no problem speaking about weakening royal power. It seemed their grandfather had been plotting something for a very long time even before his death.

They had also found letters from their aunt Lyanna to their uncle Benjen, some of which had been lost in the rookery for many years. The letters were from when their aunt had spent time in Harrenhal and often detailed boring things, about what it was like for a northern girl to learn to become a southern lady. Then there were other letters that spoke of a handsome man whom she wished to marry and a desire not to go to Storm’s End. These letters were written in a code, but it was a code that Jon recognised because he and Robb and later he and Arya had used to communicate when they were not supposed to that uncle Benjen had taught him. These letters spoke of their aunt Lyanna’s desire to break free from her betrothal and her desire to flee to Essos and do nothing more than spend time with her silver prince. These letters made no sense to Jon, they did not paint a picture of a lady who knew her duty, father in the rare times he would speak of aunt Lyanna he always portrayed her as a girl who although she was hot headed knew her duty. These letters suggested otherwise. They suggested a girl who was hot headed and did not care for anything or anyone but herself. Jon was not sure if he liked the image that he was getting of his aunt, she seemed quite selfish and did not seem the caring person his father portrayed her as.

Then in the midst of these letters was one other letter that surprised both of them. A letter written from the hand of a Lady Ashara Dayne to their uncle Brandon that spoke of where Aunt Lyanna had gone, and why she had been taken in the first place. Both Jon and Robb had been quite surprised that this letter had been left lying around for anyone to find, and yet it seemed that no one had ever looked as far as they had into the rookery, not even Maester Luwin had gone this far into the rookery. The letter seemed to be quite confused and muddled and seemed to mention something else as well. Something that was not quite clear. But there was one thing was clear about all of this, their aunt Lyanna had not been taken by Prince Rhaegar, she had gone willingly, and had in turn started the war that had torn the kingdoms in half, and forced many innocent people to die. Jon was shocked by this, shocked that a Stark could be so callous as to subvert their duty to the family and run away like she had. This was confusing for Jon, and what surprised him even more was the fact that it had been Robb and not himself who had put two and two together and understood that it had indeed been him that father and uncle Benjen had been talking about.

The thought that it was he who was Aunt Lyanna’s child confused and to an extent sickened him. He was the reason his grandfather and uncle had died, he was the reason there had been a war. By the gods it angered him, and the fact that his father had not had the decency to tell him this angered him even more. That was the reason he and Robb had gone to their father’s solar to speak with him. To get the truth out. Their father looked at them as they entered his solar his face twisted in concern. “Boys, what is the matter? Has something happened?”

Jon takes a deep breath and then says. “I want to speak about my mother.”

Father looks at Robb and then at him and says. “I do not believe now is the right time to discuss this Jon.”

“So when will be the right time father? When you are dead and I am old? Please father why will you not tell me who my mother is? Are you ashamed of who she is? Is she some camp follower? Is it Ashara Dayne? Who is it?” Jon asks his voice growing louder as he goes on.

He sees his father look at Robb, and Robb merely says. “I am not going anywhere father. I am your heir I deserve to know as well. It is time you told Jon. If you are truly the man we think you to be you are honour bound to tell him.”

His father is silent a moment and then sighs. “How much do you know of the Tourney of Harrenhal?”

Jon looks at Robb then and says. “So it is Lyanna.”

The look on fathers- no his uncle’s- face all but confirms it. “What did you say?”

“I said so it is Lyanna. My mother is your sister, Lyanna Stark isn’t she, father, or should I say uncle?” Jon replies his anger coming through.

His father is silent for a long moment and then asks. “How? How do you know?”

Jon looks at Robb once more and when he sees his brother- no his cousin, damn it, it is so hard to get it straight- nod he says. “I overheard you and uncle Benjen talking in the crypts my lord. That was what got me suspicious.”

“In the crypts?” his father asks questioningly, and then it comes to him, “In the crypts? Of course I thought there was someone down there with us. How much did you hear Jon?” his father asks.

“All of it. Uncle Benjen was right you know, I do not appreciate being kept in the dark about who my mother was. I do not like being lied to my lord, you always taught me that lying was wrong. Why then did you lie to me, to all of us for so long?” Jon asks.

His father is silent for a very long time and Jon can feel his anger continue to grow. His father’s response when he does eventually speak is so pitiful Jon wants to hit him. “To protect you.”

“To protect me? Protect me from what? Your friend, your child killer of a friend? The man who sits on his arse all day and drinks and fucks? The one who did nothing for you when Arya was ill. Why would I need protecting from him? The whole damn kingdom believes me to be your bastard by Ashara Dayne, a woman who is dead. And yet you still did not tell me anything. You did not even tell me it was her. I could have lived with that, but I could not live with feeling as if I was unwanted and a stain upon your oh so precious honour.” Jon growls.

Eddard Stark looks grief stricken and hurt, and Jon takes a savage sort of pleasure from that, he does not want the man to have any relieve from the pain. “I did it to protect you Jon, Robert would have killed you the moment he learned of your presence. I could not do that to you, I could not allow that to happen. I made a promise to your mother that I would protect you and so I made the decision that I did.”

“But why not even tell me who my mother was? You could have even told me that it was Ashara Dayne, but no, you did not tell me. You just let me think my mother was not important to you, that I am not important to you! Do you know what it is like growing up a motherless bastard? Of course you don’t. You just blindly thought everyone would follow your lead and treat me as a Stark. I am not a Stark, I am not even of the north. I am the reason grandfather, and Uncle Brandon are dead. Because my father and mother could not decide whether or not they wanted to fuck in the north or the south.” Jon all but shouts.

“I did what I had to do to ensure you were safe. Whatever has come from that has happened because of it. And yes it might not have been pleasant for you, but it was necessary. I could not have anyone knowing more than they needed to. There was too much at risk otherwise.” Lord Stark replies.

“But others do know. Uncle Benjen knows, Theo Wull knows, and I am sure that those who were with you when you found my mother know. So why not tell me? Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I to wallow in the depths of uncertainty forever?” Jon snarls.

“Of course I was going to tell you.” Lord Stark replies.

“When?” Jon asks. His father is silent for a long time and Jon snorts. “Of course you have no answer for that. You were never going to tell me where you Lord Stark? You were simply going to let me wallow in this obscurity and the feeling that I do not matter to you, so that you could keep a promise to a woman who betrayed her family. I do not know why I admired you so much.”

Jon turns then and looks at Robb who merely nods and makes to leave before hearing his father say. “Jon…son wait please, let me explain.”

Jon looks at his father hatred radiating off of him. “Why should I? How do I know you will not lie to me again my lord? I am not your son and you are not my father.” With that Jon turns and walks out of the room, tears stinging his eyes.


	9. Travelling

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. The Sand Dunes**

**Princess Rhaenys Targaryen**

The whole business at Starfall had been something else truly it had. She had never believed for a second that Edric or even Allyria would have had anything to do with Lord Arel’s death.  She and Aegon had grown up with Edric and Allyria and had always gotten on well with them, there was not a bad bone in either one of their bodies, and as such the accusations would always have been proven false. Lord Arel had been a staunch supporter of her brother’s from a very early age and had even knighted Aegon when her brother had won a little melee a year ago. That he was dead was hard for Rhaenys to comprehend, he had appeared unkillable he had survived the rebellion and the Greyjoy wars and yet now he was dead, and the fact that someone like Gerold Dayne could have killed him angered her. It angered her greatly. That the man had tried to accuse Edric and Allyria of the crime was something most heinous, and he would pay for it.

They had set off from Starfall around four days ago, Gerold Dayne was bound in chains and rode bound to three guards’ horses and still Rhaenys did not feel completely safe. There was something about the man that unnerved her, something deeply unsettling about him. The man had a look in his eyes that reminded Rhaenys of a feral animal, an animal that was just waiting for its chance to bite back at them. And his words when Aegon had read out the sentence worried her, what had he meant by that. Did the Lannisters know about them? And if so, what had stopped them from coming to find her and her brother, and if they knew about them, what was stopping them from going after their brother in the north? That worried her, it worried her greatly. Aegon did not seem too worried by it, and that worried her more, her brother was too confident in their ability to slip into the shadows. That was something that would only protect them for so long.

Their northern brother did worry her slightly. It was not that she resented his existence, he could not help being born. It was the fact that he had been raised by Eddard Stark that worried her. It was the fact that he was out there not knowing who or what he was that worried her. She had learned at a young age that a dragon who did not know who they were was a great risk to themselves and those around them. It was not only the fact that they were dragons in that they had the dragons on their sigil, but the fact that they were dragons that worried her. Her brother did not know that, even Aegon did not truly know or understand it, and yet she did. Rhaenys knew all too well what would come from her brother not knowing the truth, darkness and death would only come from it. She did not want that, truly she did not, and yet she knew no way for them to get to their brother without alerting their enemies.

“What has you so worried my queen? Tell me is it because I am in shackles?” Gerold Dayne’s voice drags her out of her thoughts.

She looks at him bound and chained, his skin chapped in the sun and merely snarls. “Of course not. You are a traitor, and traitors do not worry me.”

The man laughs. “Oh but you are still a little girl then. If I have betrayed you, what is there to say others have not? This house you have built will begin falling down.”

Trying to keep the worry from her voice Rhaenys takes on an expression of disdain. “You always were a treacherous rat Gerold. As were your father and grandfather. Your family should have been removed many years ago. A mistake that will be corrected when we arrive at Sunspear.”

The man laughs, a hoarse harsh sound. “Oh come now my queen, you know that will not be the case. Doran Martell cannot kill me without drawing attention to you or your brother. After all that is the whole point is it not? The secrecy and the lies. So many have suffered for you and your brother.”

Rhaenys shifts slightly on her saddle and says. “I do not know what you mean. The people of Dorne have been nothing but loyal to me and my brother and to our uncle. It is only you and your family that has looked to break the lines.”

Gerold looks at her his expression mocking. “Come now princess, you know that is not true. The Yronwoods and the Allyrions are the two houses that are causing you to stay up at night. The rumours came even to High Hermitage. Something will happen and you will be betrayed.”

Rhaenys looks at him her eyes narrowed. “What are you on about?”

Darkstar laughs. “The lions have more power than you or your uncle know of my queen. You can cut the head off, but another two will come to take its place. The power of Tywin Lannister stretches from here to the wall. There is nothing the man does not know.”

Before Rhaenys can respond, Edric himself speaks. “You are talking nonsense cousin. Tywin Lannister not some sort of god. He does not know all that happens.”

Darkstar laughs. “He has money enough to buy secrets. And if you think otherwise you are a fool. A fool who will not live long in this world.”

“And you are a traitor, and a disgrace to the family.” Edric snarls back.

“I am no traitor. The old order will return cousin and I was merely doing my part to ensure that the family was on the right side when the old order does return. There is no point denying it. The order is coming back, there is nothing anyone else can do to stop it.” Dayne replies.

Rhaenys looks at Dayne and then at Edric and asks softly. “Old order? What does he mean?”

Her friend looks somewhat ill at ease by her question, and Darkstar noticing this gleefully says. “Oh, he will not tell you. My cousins of Starfall are too polite to say what it truly is. But ask yourself this my queen, why do you think the maesters were so interested in ending the lives of dragons. What do you think caused the doom of Valyria?”

Rhaenys feels her eyebrows raise then. “No one knows what caused the doom of Valyria.”

“No one eh? Well then ask your friend what that big book that his father had in his study was about, and why you were never allowed to read it.” Darkstar laughs.

Rhaenys looks at her friend then for a moment her eyebrows raised in question. Something is going on her judging by how uncomfortable Edric has become, but before any of them can say anything the sound of hooves reaches them. Rhaenys looks at Edric and then Ser Arthur and Aegon who have both stopped. She rides forward to meet them. “Do you know what it is?”

Her brother looks at her and she can see the nerves in his face. “We do not. There is not supposed to be anyone out here now. It is nearly nightfall.”

Rhaenys nods. “The dunes are treacherous at the best of times. Whoever it is that is coming here, they are either friend or idiots.”

As the sound of hooves comes closer, Rhaenys puts her hand on her sword, and begins unsheathing it from is scabbard just as Aegon does the same. From somewhere she can hear Darkstar say. “You will not need the swords my queen and king. They are not here to kill you, though they could if they wanted to.”

“What are you on about traitor?” Aegon spits. “Who would come for you?”

The man merely laughs gleefully before saying. “Those who would pay a hefty price for you both. But your sister most definitely is worth more.”

Before Aegon can ride back and hit the man, Rhaenys grabs his arm and nods towards the incoming dust bowl. “Look brother.”

Her brother looks forward then and counts quickly before speaking his voice filled with worry. “There must be at least eight of them. We have enough men to deal with them.”

“Ah but do you have enough men to protect you and your sister my king?” Darkstar asks his voice mocking.

“What do you wish to do Your Grace?” Ser Arthur asks her brother.

She knows what Aegon is going to say before he even speaks and the words of protest are on her lips but her brother goes on regardless. “We stand and fight. I will not run like a coward. Let them come.”

Rhaenys can tell Ser Arthur does not like her brother’s decision but he will go with it regardless. And so they begin forming up into a battle formation just as the cloud comes toward them. There are eight figures there just as her brother said, one is a big man, a towering giant he is clearly the leader of the group. There is another man, slightly stooped with the look of death about him, he scares her the most for she knows what he is. The giant speaks. “We have come for the man in chains. Give him to us or die.”

“The man in chains is a prisoner of Dorne. You have no authority here. Now leave or we shall kill you.” Her brother snarls.

The giant snorts. “You could not kill anyone if you tried boy. I will say this one more time, move or die.”

“You will have to kill us to get him.” Her brother replies drawing his sword, as the rest of them do as well.

The eight men fan out, two going for the back the rest going for an attack on the rest of them. Rhaenys has her sword out and drawn facing down one of the men with her brother. She swings and slashes at him. Cutting and ducking and blocking. All the while her mind is trying to figure out who has sent these men. Are they Lannister men or are they from Yronwood. Gods this is going wrong. She feels something sharp sting her, and sees that the man managed to cut her. But Aegon is slowly bringing him down, she joins in with a slash and duck and then a thrust the man goes down bleeding.

Just as she knew he would her brother goes for the giant who is currently fighting Ser Arthur and three other men. Her brother slashes, and Rhaenys joins in. It is a fierce battle, one that the giant seems to be holding his own in despite the number of men he is fighting. He kills four of them before eventually falling to three swords being thrust into him at once. But before they can celebrate in the bringing down of the giant, the sound of chains breaking draws their attention, and they all turn to see to their horror Darkstar free from his chains and smiling madly. “More men are coming. You had best run, for I do not know what colour their cloaks will be.”

“We will not run traitor. You are a prisoner.” Aegon growls.

“A prisoner now am I?” Darkstar snarls.

More hooves and then more men come and in the midst of the fray she feels something pull against her and she hears a voice whisper. “Your time to die has not yet come princess. But Asshai waits for you.” And then she feels a sharp pull and a part of her hair is cut.

She looks for the man who has done the deed but can see no one other than the men she has killed. There are bodies on the ground, many are dead or wounded but none is Darkstar. She looks at her brother and then at Ser Arthur and asks. “Where did he go?”

The knight shakes his head and replies. “I do not know my queen. But that man of darkness took him.”

 


	10. Betrayal

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon Snow**

His whole life had been a lie. One big, big lie, that was something that he just could not understand, he could not fathom. His uncle? Lord Stark had told this lie supposedly to protect Jon, but in actual fact all he had done was hurt Jon and his chances of ever leading a normal life, or at least as normal a life as a bastard could lead. Lord Stark had never told him who his mother was and so he had grown up a motherless bastard, and so he had never known who he truly was other than a stain on Stark honour. And now, now to be told that not only was he a bastard but a royal one, and that his mother and father had been the ones to cause all this war, it was, it was something that he could process. He was angry and hurt, so very angry with Lord Stark, what right had the man to make this decision, to keep him in the dark for so very long? None as far as Jon could see, the only thing Stark had done was to ease his own conscious, he had not even been prepared to tell Jon anything today, and that hurt him. Even now his own uncle did not trust him enough to tell him the truth. Damn him to the seven hells.

“Jon?” his brother’s voice, for that was what Robb was no matter the lies that Lord Stark had said, came from behind the door. “Jon I know you’re in there. Let me in please?” Jon had never truly been able to say no to his brother and so wiping his eyes he turned and opened the door his brother stood there for a moment before walking in. “How are you feeling?” his brother asks, and Jon knows that Robb knows exactly how he is feeling and yet still he must ask.

“Angry, confused and angry. Hurt as well, but mainly angry.” Jon replies.

His brother nods and says. “You have every right to be angry Jon. What father did was wrong and bad. He should not have kept this a secret for so very long. I think he knows that now, and yet still he insists that he has done the right thing by you.”

Jon snorts. “Of course he does. Lord Stark is too damn stubborn to consider that perhaps what he did was so totally wrong that it has damaged the family beyond repair in some aspects. He is very good at lying to himself.”

Normally Robb would leap to their father’s defence but this time he surprises Jon by nodding and agreeing. “I believe you are right. Sometimes I feel father never really thinks about the consequences of his actions before he makes them. I love him, truly I do, but what he decided to do by making you his bastard? That has had such severe consequences for us all that nothing right has happened since then.”

Jon sniffles slightly and says. “Well we became brothers. That is a good thing.” He gives his brother a watery smile. “I mean father is a fool and an idiot, but at least we got to meet one another.”

His brother smiles back at him. “Aye that is true. Very true. Still father should have told you the truth. We should not have had to go about searching for it like criminals. You were owed that much by him.”

Jon feels the weight of Lord Stark’s betrayal weigh down on him once more and he feels the anger grow inside of him colouring his voice. “Yes. Most definitely. If he did not want to tell me the truth why claim me at all? What made him feel that he had to take on a little baby and make it out that baby was some great responsibility, he could have just left me there in Dorne and been done with it. And yet he created this lie, as if I was not worth anything, as if my own wants and needs could just be ignored. Did you see how uncomfortable he was when we confronted him? He still did not want to tell me the truth of my mother, and I doubt he ever would. He would have wanted me to be a bastard for all of my days, as if being a motherless bastard was not enough pain for me to suffer.”

Robb nods. “Most definitely brother. No matter who your mother or father are you are still my brother, and that is something not even father’s lies or truths can change. You will always be my brother, and I will stand by you, whatever choices you make from now on.”

Jon wipes his eyes once more and says. “Thank you brother. I… I just don’t know why Lord Stark felt he had to keep on lying to me. To all of us. Does he not realise just how much he has screwed over our family? He has made it so that there is too much tension between myself and your lady mother. He is such a fool. Such a thrice damned fool.”

“Aye. Father is a fool, truly a fool. I do not think he ever truly thinks through some of the big decisions he makes regarding the family. I mean getting Septa Mordane? That is something I do not understand, we are northmen not bloody southerners. Sansa and Arya should know how to be a northern lady not some southern pampered idiot. Father is ruining our family with his lies and hasty decisions.” Robb snarls.

Taking comfort from his brother’s shared anger, Jon says something that has been on his mind for some time now. “And it’s almost as if he does not want me to know. It’s as if he is afraid that I will do something now that I know the truth of my parentage. What could I possibly want to do? I am still a bastard, I am just a royal bastard.”

Just as he hoped, his brother takes the bait. “I do not think that is the case Jon.”

“What? What do you think is not the case brother?” Jon asks innocently.

“I do not think you are a royal bastard.” Robb replies.

“And why do you think that? Lord Stark never said my parents were married. He merely said that they ran away together like idiots and had me.” Jon says.

“The presence of the Kingsguard, to me suggests that they were married. The Kingsguard oaths are very clear, they are there to protect members of the royal family. Had Prince Rhaegar not married Lady Lyanna, then the Kingsguard would not have been obliged to stay and guard Aunt Lyanna after Prince Rhaegar died on the Trident. Aunt Lyanna was a member of the royal family I am certain of it, that was why the Lord Commander and Ser Oswell were there when father showed up. They were there guarding the new King of Westeros after the sack of King’s Landing. They were there guarding you.” His brother says.

Even though he has suspected this, hearing it from his brother gives him a whole new perspective. “Why did Lord Stark not mention this then?” he asks.

His brother looks somewhat stumped then. “I do not know Jon, maybe he did not think it was important to mention.”

“Why? Why would he not think to mention this to me? Does he not think it is important to actually fucking tell me that I am not a bastard? Or does he want me to continue feeling like I am worth nothing? That I am nothing.” Jon fumes.

His brother looks at him a moment then and says. “Perhaps it was because he was scared of what you might do should you know the truth.”

“What I might have done if I found out? What does he think I would go riding down to King’s Landing screaming for Robert Baratheon to come out and die? I am not Uncle Brandon I am not an idiot. I might well be the true king, but Robert Baratheon is a man. It will take time to begin undermining him and getting support.” Jon says allowing his anger to guide him.

Robb looks at him somewhat worriedly. “What are you suggesting Jon?”

Jon looks at his brother and smiles. “I am suggesting that perhaps it is time that I began thinking of getting my birth right. Lord Stark is clearly not the man I thought him to be. He is someone who will need to be brought onside. And perhaps I can use the fact that he promised to keep me safe as a way to get him to see reason.”

“But father is good friends with King Robert, and would not want to go against his friend. Furthermore, would his honour not dictate that he not go about handing you over to the King? That would be what father would do would he not?” Robb asks fear clear in his voice.

Jon feels anger grow inside him. “Well, if he does that then he has betrayed his promise to his sister, to my mother. If he were to betray me to the child killer, would he ever be able to live with himself? I do not think so.”

His brother looks very worried when Jon looks at him. “Are you suggesting that you claim the crown brother? Surely that would put us all in more danger?”

Jon smiles slyly at his brother. “I do not think so, Lord Stark has kept his promise and lived with the knowledge that such a thing if it were to ever get out would lead to our destruction. This way, this is the safer way, a chance for me to control my fate, something that I have never had the chance to do before. It would also mean the Starks would have more power, and is that not something you have always wanted brother?”

Robb looks uncertain then when Jon looks at him, very uncertain. “I…I do not know brother. There are far too many risks, and how would you get support? How would you convince others to support you?”

Jon smiles then. “Because Lord Stark will support me. He will have to because of the promise that he made my mother. If he did not then he is more of a coward than I think he is right now. As for the others well they will follow your father I know they will.”

Robb is silent a moment and then he says. “Then I think I will follow you Jon. I am your brother, I will always be your brother. Whatever you chose to do I will follow you and fight by your side. But we must convince father that it is the right thing to do. You know what he is like, he will be very worried now.”

Jon looks at his brother then and says. “I am sure he will. Otherwise he is not worth the title that he has. He is not worth the mere air that he breathes. If he does not support his own kin he is not a man. I will take my throne, I truly will.”

“What are you two plotting?” another voice says.

They both turn around and Jon sees his uncle Benjen standing there in the doorway his eyes narrowed. “Nothing uncle. We were not plotting anything.” Robb says hurriedly.

“No, tell him the truth. I know the truth about who my mother and father are. I know what I am.” Jon says looking his uncle straight in the eye.

His uncle looks at him for a very long time before sighing and saying. “I always knew that this day would come. But tell me Jon what do you intend to do about it?”

“I intend to claim what is rightfully mine.” Jon says anger filling his voice.

His uncle sighs once more and replies softly. “There is more to the story than you know Jon. There are other dragons out there who want to know you.”


	11. Worry

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. The Water Gardens**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

Things at Starfall had gone relatively smoothly, Darkstar had been found out as the fraud he truly was, and that gave Aegon some satisfaction. He had never truly liked the man, he seemed far too smug and up himself for someone from a mere knightly house, and an impoverished one at that. It was not as if he was a Andrey, someone who could claim an ounce of decency, he was a brute, a coward and a craven. Aegon had very much looked forward to having him killed when he was brought to Sunspear where he knew Uncle Doran would have given the sentence of death. And yet the man had escaped, they had been ambushed, and the man had disappeared, where he had gone Aegon did not know, but the things he had said and the fact that he was gone, worried Aegon. They worried and angered him, there was a traitor in their midst but who it was he did not know.

This issue with Darkstar was something that had kept him up till early in the morning. He was not sure just what the man had meant and it was worrying him. It was something he now was bringing up with his uncles. “Darkstar has gone, he has disappeared none of the scouts or riders have found him, and his trail has gone cold. We do not even know who it was who took him from our grasp or why they would do so. Though I think it might have been the Yronwoods or the Allyrions. They are certainly ambitious enough to try something such as that.”

His uncle looks at him a moment and then says. “The move is too bold for Lady Delonne, she is someone who prefers working in the shadows. This whole operation with Yronwood is something that she has allowed us to know about. There is clearly some other game going on here. I do not think it would be her who attacked you and took Ser Gerold. You said that the attackers wore plain clothes?”

“Yes no doubt in an attempt to throw confusion over who they were. One of them the big giant of a man whom myself, Rhaenys and Ser Arthur killed had a Westerosi accent though not Dornish. That makes me think that the Yronwoods have allies outside of Dorne whom they are working with.” Aegon says.

“It would make sense,” Rhaenys adds. “On their own the Yronwoods might be powerful but they do not have the strength to pull of such intrigues as they have been doing. The mere fact we have found out most of them suggests either they are careless or they are making it so that we know about it. Which makes me wonder if the Lannisters are the ones behind this.”

Aegon looks at his sister then nodding, this is something they have both agreed upon. The fact that Darkstar kept mentioning lions before and during the ride to the Water Gardens suggests to them both that he is a traitor in more ways than one. Consorting with lions, what a disgrace. Their uncles looked concerned. Uncle Oberyn speaks then. “What makes you think that the Lannisters are involved in this Rhaenys? If they were do you not think you would either be captured or on your way to the Westerlands right now?”

Aegon looks at his sister, and the thought of losing her makes his heart beat uneasily, he knows he would burn the world if anything happened to her. His sister takes his hand and squeezes it reassuringly, reminding him that they are both safe. “I believe that they are playing some sort of long game here uncles. I think that if they wanted to, Tywin Lannister would have taken me out of Dorne there and then when Darkstar was taken. The fact he did not, I think was a sign that he knows what is going on. He knows that there is more at play here and that Dorne is not completely united. How he knows I do not know, but there is something going on here.”

“It must be the Yronwoods. There is no other explanation for it. They are still reeling from the blows we dealt them following the end of the rebellion. They want something and no doubt Tywin Lannister has offered it to them in return for information. The traitors.” Uncle Oberyn spits.

Aegon looks at his sister in some confusion and she merely shrugs and so he looks at his uncles then. Uncle Doran has been silent for some time. But now he sighs and says. “We cannot rush to any conclusions. Until we have ample evidence that the Yronwoods are plotting something that betrays their oaths of fealty to myself and to you, Your Grace, we must wait and see. We must play the game of shadows and wait for the Yronwoods to make a mistake. And they will.”

“And if that means they try to make another move? This time trying to take Rhaenys? What then? If the usurper finds out that we are alive here, then we are all dead. It makes no different that he will lose most of his men, he will come calling. Not that I would not welcome a chance to kill the usurper myself but still. We are not ready yet, you keep saying that uncle. But how do we stop there from being more attempts?” Aegon asks fear and anger making his voice rise.

Rhaenys takes his hand and squeezes reassuringly. Their uncle replies. “The Yronwoods will be forced to make a move soon. I have begun implementing sanctions on their trade within Dorne. All those lords and ladies loyal to us are showing their commitment by refusing to buy from Yronwood. Lord Anders is not a patient man, he will become desperate. And desperate men do desperate things. Things they would not often consider doing were they in their right mind.”

Aegon is silent a moment as he processes what his uncle is saying and then he snarls. “You intend to use Rhaenys as bait, is that what it is? Do you intend to use my sister, your queen, as a way to lure Anders Yronwood out and have him imprisoned?”

“If it means lessening the threats to you in the long term, yes I will do what is necessary.” His uncle replies calmly.

“I will not allow it.” Aegon growls. “I will not allow my sister to be used as bait. Use me if you must, but not Rhaenys.”

“Aegon please. We must do whatever is necessary to ensure that your path to the throne is secure and safer than it is. We cannot do that if Anders Yronwood is there waiting and plotting. If this lures him out then so be it.” his sister says sharply.

“This is not right Rhae,” he protests. “You are my sister, you are my queen. I will not allow you to be used as bait simply because some fat headed cunt of a lord has turned traitor. I would rather march there and kill him and his sons myself.”

He looks at his sister pleading with her to understand and agree, his heart tears itself in two when she merely says. “I cannot be your queen Aegon, we must do what is necessary to see you on the throne. If that involves making sacrifices for the cause then so be it.”

“What do you mean you cannot be my queen? We are Targaryens, it is expected of us! And I love you Rhaenys, I thought you loved me?” Aegon asks, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

His sister looks hurt as well. “I do Aegon I do love you, but we must think of the bigger picture here. You must sit the throne, anything else is not acceptable. We will all need to make sacrifices to get you there. If I must be used as bait then I will accept it, and make sure Anders pays.”

Aegon’s head is spinning, he is hurt and he wants to leave and cry, but he is the king and kings do not cry. He swallows once, then twice, then he looks at his uncle Oberyn and asks. “Is our brother in danger? If the Lannisters know of us, then will they not know of him as well?”

His uncle Oberyn looks thoughtful for a moment. “I do not think they know of your brother in Winterfell, Stark’s lie might well have done the trick there. But if they suspect that you two exist, then it is possible that they know of him as well.”

Aegon looks at his uncles then and says. “Then we must bring him here. If Tywin Lannister knows of him, then he is in grave danger. It is not safe for any of us, we must be united in our attempts to prevent Lannister from using any one of us against the other.”

Aegon is still hurting over what his sister has said, but his desire to ensure they are all safe is currently outweighing his hurt. He looks at his uncles then and is surprised when Uncle Doran says. “If the boy knows who he is and we have no reason to believe that he does, then he is safer in Winterfell. It is harder to get into the north than it is into Dorne. Until the boy is ready to come here, he must remain there where he is safe.”

“And if he is not safe? What then? Will you simply allow another Targaryen to die or live their life in exile?” Aegon asks.

“I would have you and your sister safe. You two are the most important part of this whole plan. You are Elia’s children, you are more important to me than some boy I have never seen.” Uncle Oberyn replies.

“That boy is our brother. We must know he is safe and that he knows who he is. I cannot and will not allow him to grow up without knowing his true self.” Aegon states.

His sister tries to take his hand then but Aegon pulls away, he is not happy with her. His uncle Doran who had been silent during this exchange speaks then. “Then you will be happy to know that your brother knows of who he is. It seems that he figured it out for himself. How I do not know, but he knows now of whom he is.”

“How do you know this?” Aegon asks.

“Do you have men in Winterfell?” Rhaenys asks at the same time.

Their uncle smiles. “I have many friends and allies in many places, and one of them has told me that the boy knows who he is. Whether or not he knows of you two I do not know.”

“Surely he must know of us?” Aegon says. “If he is smart enough to figure out his parentage he must be smart enough to know that something was not right with the Sack of King’s Landing.”

Rhaenys speaks then. “I do not think he would have made that leap brother. It is one thing to find out you are a secret prince. But the other six kingdoms believe we both died in the sack of King’s Landing. He has no reason to believe otherwise. Unless he has some power we do not.”

Aegon runs a hand through his hair then, his heart thumping in his chest. “Surely he must know. Surely Stark would have told him? It would not have been that hard, after all Ser Arthur was not at the tower where Stark found our brother. Surely the man would have deduced something was going on.”

His uncles look at him then and Oberyn says. “He might have deduced something was going on, or he might not have. Stark might well have been trying to keep treasonous thoughts from his mind considering who his friend was. No one will ever truly know the full extent of what happened in the rebellion, even those who lived it. There are too many factors that might have not been taken into play.”

Aegon looks at his sister as well as his uncles and says. “I will wait no longer than a year. If he is not here within a year, I will go and find him myself.” With that he turns and walks out of the room, his head spinning.


	12. Betrayal Part 2

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon Snow?**

Jon looks at his brother then and says. “I am sure he will. Otherwise he is not worth the title that he has. He is not worth the mere air that he breathes. If he does not support his own kin he is not a man. I will take my throne, I truly will.”

“What are you two plotting?” another voice says.

They both turn around and Jon sees his uncle Benjen standing there in the doorway his eyes narrowed. “Nothing uncle. We were not plotting anything.” Robb says hurriedly.

“No, tell him the truth. I know the truth about who my mother and father are. I know what I am.” Jon says looking his uncle straight in the eye.

His uncle looks at him for a very long time before sighing and saying. “I always knew that this day would come. But tell me Jon what do you intend to do about it?”

“I intend to claim what is rightfully mine.” Jon says anger filling his voice.

His uncle sighs once more and replies softly. “There is more to the story than you know Jon. There are other dragons out there who want to know you.”

Jon looks at his uncle in confusion then and asks. “What do you mean? What more could there be to this lie that Lord Eddard has told me and the rest of us?”

His uncle looks pained then, and Jon knows he should feel some guilt but all he feels is mere contempt. “You are not the only dragon left in the world Jon. There are others left.”

“What you mean the beggar king and his sister? They are not truly in line for the throne. A son comes before a brother, I am Aerys Targaryen’s heir. And as much as that disgusts me, perhaps it is time I embraced the disgust and made it my own.” Jon rants, not entirely sure what he is saying or why he is saying it.

His uncle’s expression hardens then. “You are not the only child of Rhaegar Targaryen’s still alive Jon. Your brother and sister, Aegon and Rhaenys are alive as well.”

The news hits him like a hammer. “What do you mean? My brother and sister are dead. They were killed during the sack of King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister made sure of that. And Lord Eddard allowed his child killing friend to sit on my throne because of it. How can you say that they are alive? What sort of mockery is this?” Jon snarls.

“Jon speaks truly uncle. Everyone knows that Aegon and Rhaenys were killed on Tywin Lannister’s orders. Their bodies as well as the body of their mother were presented before the court. Everyone knows what King Robert said when he saw their bodies as well. Why would you joke about something like that?” his brother says.

Uncle Benjen’s face tightens in anger then. “I am not joking, nor would I joke about something such as this boys. I speak the truth. I am sure you did not allow your father to tell you the whole story behind what happened at the tower of joy?”

“What does the supposed survival of my siblings have to do with the tower of joy? Were they there with me? Is that what you are trying to say? Did Lord Stark separate me from my siblings to punish me for what my birth had cost him?” Jon snarls.

His uncle sighs impatiently. “The Tower of Joy is relevant to this story because, there were only two knights of the Kingsguard there guarding your mother. If you were the true king, there should have been three. The three finest knights were at the tower before Rhaegar left for King’s Landing but one knight came back with him. The sword of the morning, Ser Arthur Dayne. He came back with Prince Rhaegar, but he did not fight at the Trident, nor did he flee to Essos with Prince Viserys and Queen Rhaella, most assumed he died in the fire of the red keep, that Aerys had him burned alive, but when Ned got to the tower, the Kingsguard knights there were not acting as if their brother was dead. To them he was very much alive, very much so. They would not have acted as such if the opposite were true. And there was always something suspicious about the way the bodies of the supposed Aegon and Rhaenys were presented. They were too scarred to be recognisable as if someone knew they were not the actual children and were trying to cover their own tracks and so presented the children as if they were who they were supposed to be.”

Jon looks at his uncle then comprehension forming in him and his heart beating erratically. “What are you suggesting uncle? That my brother and sister somehow escaped King’s Landing and have been alive all this time? That Tywin Lannister knew about it and covered it up?”

“It does sound unlikely uncle. Why would Tywin Lannister lie about something like this? If Rhaenys and Aegon are still alive, why does he not go and spend every resource he can finding them and killing them. Why has King Robert not done the same?” Robb asks.

“Because it suited Tywin Lannister to have the realm believe Rhaegar’s children were dead. It showed his loyalty to Robert, it showed that the Targaryens were done for, for no one would support the son of the Mad King over the son of Prince Rhaegar. And it also meant that peace could return and Tywin could get what he always wanted. His daughter as queen. That is of course if he did believe them to be alive, he might well have believed them to be dead. I do not know. What I do know is that before the sack, Princess Elia smuggled her two children away from King’s Landing to the one place where they would be safe. She took on two fake children and pretended that they were own, and when the sack occurred she died. And the children died. But those whose identities they had assumed remained. This is what your father and I were able to deduce.” Uncle Benjen replies.

Jon looks at his brother a moment then and then looks back at his uncle and says. “So you are telling me that my siblings are still alive, and they are out there somewhere?”

His uncle nods. “Yes Jon. They are, and I do know exactly where they are.”

“Where?” Jon asks.

At the same time his brother says. “Why did father not mention this beforehand?”

Uncle Benjen is silent a moment and then says. “Ned did not mention this because it is not relevant. They are somewhere far from here growing up safely, same as you are Jon. And that is how it should be. You are safe and away from the wrath of the King and those who would use you as a pawn in their own games.”

“We are being kept from our rights.” Jon fumes. “Because Lord Stark is afraid of what might come from standing up to the Lannisters and to his fat oaf of a friend.”

He is not expecting the blow that hits him then. His cheek stings from where his uncle has hit him. His eyes water slightly, and he looks at his uncle. “I know you are upset and are trying to come to terms with all that you have learnt Jon. But this attitude of yours must stop. Ned did what he had to do to ensure that you were protected from the wrath of Tywin Lannister and Robert. You have grown up safe and sound, with food in your belly and a family who care for you. This talk of treason has to stop.”

Jon looks at his uncle for a long time, anger boiling inside of him. “Treason? Treason? This is treason is it? That bastard child killer sitting my brother’s throne is treason. That my uncles are keeping me away from my family is treason. That my uncle could not even tell me the whole truth is treason. My whole life has been a god’s damned lie. Lord Stark has never seen me as a son, and I have never felt truly at home here. This place has been like a constant reminder that I do not fit in. And now I know why, because I don’t I am supposed to be somewhere else. I have always been a burden on this family, because Lord Stark was too much of a fool to realise what sort of friction his decision would cause. He was willing to allow me to suffer in ignominy for the rest of my days. What sort of a life is that uncle? What sort of a life is that?”

His uncle’s face softens then. “It is no life. I admit that Jon, truly I do. Ned cast a dye on your fate the day he named you his bastard and brought you back here. And yet you have lived to learn the truth because of that decision. That is something you need to understand Jon, without that decision, you would have died a long time ago.”

Jon says nothing in response, but hears Robb ask. “How do you know where Jon’s siblings are uncle? How do you even know what you think to be true is indeed true?”

Jon looks intently at his uncle then and sees a whole range of emotions flicker briefly across his uncle’s usually expressionless face. His voice is soft when he says. “I have travelled far and wide across the Seven Kingdoms lads, I know many people and have many allies. I am told many things, and I have seen King Aegon and Princess Rhaenys for myself.”

Jon and Robb look at one another, and Jon asks. “King Aegon? Is that title not heresy uncle?”

“It is heresy depending on whom you ask and what you believe. It is right what you said Jon, Robert Baratheon is not a good king. And perhaps your brother would be a better king than him, but for now there is nothing that can be done. You must stop this ranting and plotting. It will only end in death for you, as it did for Lya.” His uncle replies.

“What do you mean?” Jon asks.

“What plotting?” Robb asks at the same time.

Their uncle is completely silent a moment before replying. “There were things they did and said that should not have been done, and that is why they ended up where they ended up. All I am saying is that you should think before you act. Do not do something that you will later regret.”

“Regret? You mean doing something similar to what Lord Eddard did? Does he regret bringing me here? Does he regret bringing me to Winterfell and raising me as his own? Am I a mere burden to him? Is that why he would never tell me who my mother is? And even when I confronted him about it he tried to deny it?” Jon says.

Uncle Benjen looks at him a long moment and then sighs. “You know that is not true Jon. You know that Lord Eddard cares for you, and sees you as a son. For all intents and purposes you are his son.”

“But I am not his son!” Jon all but shouts. “I never was his son, my blood is not his blood. He is not my father and no lie that he says or that you say can change that. My whole life was a lie, and now I find out that my brother and sister are alive. Maybe I should leave here and go to them. Maybe everything would be better if I did.”

Before either his brother or uncle can say anything he storms out of the room, anger and sadness overwhelming him. He walks and then he runs and when he gets to the Godswood, he keeps going on and on. He does not know what he wants, all he knows is that the pain has to stop. It truly has to stop.

 


	13. Concern

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Water Gardens**

**Princess Rhaenys Targaryen**

She missed Aegon truly she did. They had not shared a bed since their return from Starfall and that had been some time ago now. Her brother was not speaking to her, and Rhaenys knew that it was because she was volunteering herself to lure Anders Yronwood out of hiding. It was a risky move yes, but it was a risk she was willing to take. They had waited far too long to reclaim what was theirs to allow a man such as Anders to prevent them from getting it. Aegon could not see that, he was too blinded by his feelings for her to truly realise the importance of removing Yronwood. It was not as if Rhaenys was going to allow herself to actually be captured, Yronwood was not as good as her, it was merely that she would use herself as bait and knowing Yronwood he would more than likely bite. That was the plan, but Aegon could not see that and so they did not speak, and they did not sleep with one another. And that hurt. But if it meant he was safe then so be it.

Right now she could not afford to think about Aegon, and as much as it pained her to do so, she pushed him from her mind and focused on what she had to say to her uncle. Uncle Doran had asked that she come and see him this morning and so she had obliged. She knew her uncle was ill, that he was not like to live for too long, but he was determined to see them on the throne, to see Aegon on the throne and so she was willing to work with him. She looked at him as he looked out onto the gardens and the pools below and then asks. “Do you think Anders Yronwood truly is working with Tywin Lannister uncle?”

Her uncle is silent for a moment and during that moment Rhaenys hears the children laughing at the pool and smiles slightly remembering when it was her and Aegon down there. Her uncle’s voice is soft when he replies. “I believe Anders Yronwood is working for Tywin Lannister Rhaenys. Yronwood would not work with, he would work for. The man is not smart enough to come up with any of these schemes on his own.”

Rhaenys looks at her uncle then and asks. “Why would Yronwood want to turn his cloak? What would Tywin offer him that would make him betray the vow that he swore?”

Her uncle holds out his hands and makes a sweeping gesture. “Dorne. All of Dorne would be his if he worked with Tywin Lannister. The Yronwoods have always coveted Dorne. Before we were princes and princesses, they were Kings. They feel they are owed Dorne. The chance to rule it and to take it from us, is something that Anders Yronwood would not want to pass up. That is what Tywin Lannister would have offered him for his aid.”

“Would it be better to take Quentyn away from Yronwood then? If the man has Quentyn he has a tool against you. That is why you have not acted sooner is it not?” Rhaenys queries.

Her uncle’s voice sounds pained when he says. “I do not think removing Quentyn is an option now. For one it would alert the Yronwoods to the fact that we suspect that they are doing something, and secondly I do not think Quentyn wishes to return to Sunspear. He feels more at home at Yronwood.”

“Truly? He prefers living with those oafs than with his own kin? How is that possible? Does he even know truly who the Yronwoods are?” Rhaenys asks.

Uncle Doran laughs sadly. “I do not think that Quentyn would believe me if I told him that his foster family are traitors. He believes the world hangs from their every word. That is a mistake that lies with me. I did not think that that could happen, and now he sees them more as kin than he does us. He will do what he feels is right, and more than likely that will be doing what his foster family does.”

Rhaenys is shocked by this answer and says. “Surely he is not that far gone? You are his father, he has to do what you tell him to does he not? That is the way the land works.”

Her uncle sighs and his sigh sounds so sad and painful that she cannot help but take his hand. “There are many things that I wish were true, that we believe to be true. And yet that is one thing that is not the case. Arianne wants your brother, and Quentyn, Quentyn wants to be part of a family. My daughter cannot have Aegon and Quentyn, well I believe he has found what he wants in the Yronwoods.”

“If it comes to war who will he side with?” Rhaenys asks sharply.

Her uncle is silent then, and the silence stretches on for so long that Rhaenys worries that her uncle has fallen asleep. When he does reply his voice is soft, and nearly broken. “He will support the Yronwoods. And he will have to die because of it.”

Rhaenys squeezes her uncle’s hand and says forcefully. “Then we must prevent that. We cannot allow it to come to war. I have spoken with uncle Oberyn and with Ser Daemon, and both say that using the sand steeds and the invitation will do the trick. What do you think?”

“I believe the plan is a smart one. Anders Yronwood has always liked his horses and he likes nothing more than to sleep with women who know what they are doing. That you are who you are will only entice him more. No doubt he will have told Tywin Lannister as well, the two of them will be plotting to capture you when you meet.” Her uncle replies.

Rhaenys looks at her uncle and sees him looking back at her. “How do you think they will do it?”

“Sellswords and an ambush. Yronwood likes that tactic and it is something Lannister will approve of. You will be lured into a false sense of security and that is when they will strike.” Uncle Doran replies.

“And of course they will think I am coming alone. The rumours put about seem to have worked. They will not suspect that Uncle Oberyn and uncle Elvar and more men will be waiting for them in the Dunes?” Rhaenys asks, hoping to keep the pleading note out of her voice.

Her uncle looks at her and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Your uncles will be there and they will be waiting. The moment Yronwood looks to be making his move they will act, and nothing will go wrong, I promise you that. If something does go wrong, Dorne will rise I promise you that. We will not stand for another one of our daughters be harassed by a Lannister.”

Rhaenys stands there then, holding her uncle’s hand, and watching the children play in the pools. Her mind goes back to a time when she was just a little girl playing in those pools, before the world became more complicated. A time when she could just enjoy being a little girl in a place that encouraged freedom and enjoyment. There was nothing more to the world than winning at play fights and pool fights. Nothing more than swimming and learning new things. Now there is so much more and most of it is new and frightening, but she knows it must be explored for all of them. For them to be safe, truly safe they must delve into the unknown. Sighing she says to her uncle. “I must go uncle. I said I would speak to Edric.”

Her uncle let’s go of her hand and says. “Be gentle with him.” Rhaenys nods and then turns and leaves her uncle to his watching. She nods at Areo Hotah and continues walking down the corridors and then when she comes to Edric’s room she pauses for a moment and then knocks. 

“Come in.” she hears Edric say in his deep voice.

She takes a deep breath and then opens the door. Edric is sat at the table reading through some paper or the other, but he looks up and smiles at her when he sees her. “Ah my queen, what might I do for you?”

Rhaenys smiles at her foster brother and asks. “Are you well? You have recovered from the dunes?”

Edric nods. “I am my queen, much better. Maester Mellos did a fine job repairing me. But I suspect that is not why you are here.”

Rhaenys looks at her foster brother, he had always been quite perceptive and so she decides to get right to the point. “You are right, I am not here to check up on you. I have come here to ask you some questions.”

“Questions my queen?” her foster brother asks. “Questions about what?”

“About what your cousin meant when we rode back to Sunspear before we were attacked.” Rhaenys says.

Edric’s face changes then and his eyes darken. “My cousin was speaking nonsense, complete and utter nonsense hoping to throw you off guard. There was no truth to the things he said.”

“Really?” Rhaenys asks. “Then why does it seem as if you know what he was talking about? He seemed convinced that you did as well.”

“Of course he was trying to make it seem that way. My cousin was mad. He is mad. There is nothing more to it than that.” Edric protests.

Rhaenys holds firm and says. “It is a crime to lie to your queen Edric. We grew up together and I can tell when you are lying to me. What is it that has you so worried? Why are you not telling me what it is?”

There is silence after that, and Rhaenys wonders if Edric will actually speak or if this will be a fruitless talk. Eventually he does speak though his voice is soft. “Because it involves your family. It involves dragons and I do not know whether it is true or not.”

Out of all the things her friend could have said, this was not what she was expecting. “Dragons? What do you mean dragons?”

Edric sighs then and says. “There is an order, an order sworn to the protection of dragons. That is what Gerold was on about before he went missing.”

“Dragons? But all the dragons are dead.” Rhaenys says. “And why has this order never been mentioned before?”

“The order is sworn to defend both types of dragons. And they are a secret society, formed during the reign of Maegor the Cruel, who made it so that the order would never speak of their existence to anyone, apart from each other and the king.” Edric replies.

“There is more than one type of dragon?” Rhaenys asks confused.

“There are the animals and then there are their riders. Your family my queen, those who are the other dragons are.” Edric replies.

This new piece of information shocks Rhaenys. She is not sure what to make of it, and she is not sure whether or not she believes it. “How do you know of this and I do not?”

“Because the order was never meant to reveal itself to those it protected. They were meant to work in secret, in the shadows ensuring that those threats the Kingsguard could not find were dealt with before they became too much of a concern.” Edric replies.

“Again I ask how do you know of it and I do not? And why then did they not stop the rebellion?” Rhaenys asks.

“Because my father was a member of the order. That is why you were raised partially in Starfall. When father died I swore to aid in your quest. It is a vow I intend to keep, and one that someone such as Darkstar can never live to know of.” Edric replies his tone serious.

“Why? And why did the order not stop the rebellion if they are so driven to protect my family?” Rhaenys asks once more.

“Because Darkstar is a traitor and is not what he appears to be. The man will not stop until you are dead. You and the King both. That is his purpose in this world.” Edric replies.

“Why?” Rhaenys asks.

“Because he is of the night, and the night fears the fire.” Edric replies.

 

 

 


	14. A Pup No More

**1 st Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Benjen Stark**

The truth was out, the truth which had hung over the family for fourteen years was now finally out. Jon knew who he was now, and he had acted just as Benjen thought he would, though Ned might think the boy was essentially a younger version of himself Benjen had always seen the fire underneath the elements of himself that he often repressed and did not let anyone see. In that way he was a lot like Lyanna, and that was what worried Benjen, Lyanna had repressed her fire and ended up dying for some half-baked plan. He did not want that to happen to her son. And yet he feared that Jon would not be easily calmed, this was a life changing truth to learn, and at the age he was now, there was every chance he would get himself killed in his anger. Benjen hoped Robb was able to find the boy before he did something stupid, but truly he knew for that to be prevented Jon and Ned needed to talk to one another, and yet knowing his brother, it was not likely.

Ned had many good qualities but dealing with conflict amongst family was not his strongest one. And that was why Benjen had walked from Jon’s room to where he knew his brother would be, the lord’s solar that had once been their father’s, and should have been Brandon’s had it not been for Benjen’s own idiocy. Of course, Catelyn was with Ned when Benjen arrived no doubt wondering where her son had gotten to. He cleared his throat and they both looked at him. “He knows.” he says simply.

“I know.” Ned replies. “I told him.”

“Indeed it seems he has not taken it well, neither has Robb. Though I cannot say I blame them. You handled that situation terribly Ned.” Benjen says.

“Ben, surely now is not the time to chastise your brother over how he dealt with the situation?” Catelyn asks.

Benjen looks at his goodsister, and whilst he does like her, her habit of standing up for Ned when his brother has done wrong, can be quite infuriating. “No he needs to hear this Cat. Ned handled this situation terribly. He always has when it comes to Jon. I am surprised he even told you about Jon’s parentage.” A strange look crosses his goodsister’s face then and he has the realisation then. “He did not tell you did he? You did not tell her?”

“No. Cat…. Cat figured it out years ago.” Ned responds.

“And you did not have the heart to speak to her about it? BY the gods Ned what is wrong with you? What are you so scared of?” Benjen growls.

“Of Jon dying! You know what Robert is like. He despises the Targaryens and should he have learned of Jon’s parentage then we all would have suffered. I was and I am scared of how Robert would have taken the news. And I am scared of losing Jon.” His brother replies.

Benjen snorts then. “You might have already lost him Ned. Truly did you think refusing to tell him even when he confronted you about the matter was such a good idea? What were you thinking?”

His brother looks angry then. “I was not. This is not the right time for Jon to know, I was trying to tell him that. But he would not listen, there are too many dangers now that he knows. There is a risk to all of us. And yet he does not realise that in his anger, he might do something that gets himself and others hurt. He is too much like Lyanna in that.”

That gets Benjen’s own blood boiling. “He had the guts to confront you about this matter. Something you have never had the guts to do. He asked you a straight question and you answered. There is no shame in that. He has every right to be angry Ned. You made him feel unwelcome in his own god damned home. You made it so that everything he did was seen as either less than or a stain on what you and your true born children did.”

“Jon has had a good life here. Certainly better than many other noble bastards would have. He knows his family and he has always known he was loved and cared for. But in his anger he might not remember that and he will be a danger to himself and others because of it. This news is not something one takes lightly.” His goodsister says.

“And yet you were never a mother to him Cat? Why was that? Was it because you could not force yourself be a mother to a bastard or the child that cost you your betrothed is that why? Or do you try and justify it as necessary to keep going with my brother’s ruse?” Benjen asks.

His goodsister looks hurt then and Benjen takes a moment satisfaction from that. “I did what I thought was necessary. It would have looked far too odd if I treated my husband’s bastard as the same as my own trueborn children. I do not like the fact I had to do so, but I had to. And I would do so again if it meant protecting us all.”

“And yet now he knows.” Benjen replies. “What will you both do now? You cannot continue as if nothing has changed, though gods know you will try Ned. You cannot do that anymore. I will not allow it.”

“You are not Lord of Winterfell brother, I would remind you of that fact.” Ned replies.

“Aye, and you are. Perhaps it is time you stopped worrying about the past and started thinking of the present. Jon knows now Ned, he knows the truth of who he is, and he is a scared and afraid child. He needs guidance and support, hiding yourself away here is not going to do any good. You need to be there.” Benjen retorts.

“What if he does not want to see me?” his brother asks, and Ned sounds so dejected and childish that Benjen wants to laugh.

“Of course he wants to see you Ned. You blind fool. You are the only man he has known as a father his whole life. He is angry yes, and he has every right to be, but right now he wants to know that you will still be there for him. If you do not go to him now and speak with him then you are no better a father than our own was.” Benjen says sharply.

His brother looks hurt at that and Benjen merely looks at him pointedly. Catelyn speaks then. “Ben does have a point my love. Now that Jon knows, he will be gravely upset and hurt. And that is a risk for us all. If he were to do something stupid then we would all be in danger. You must go and speak to him.”

His brother looks torn then. His voice is soft when he speaks. “But what do I say? I….I am afraid truly I am. What if he rejects me?”

Benjen has to laugh at how childlike his brother sounds then. “For the love of the mother Ned, Jon is still your son whether or not he is from your loins or not. You are still the only man he has known as a father. Whether he wants to speak to you now or not is immaterial, he will want your reassurance later on. Hells even now he might well want it. Staying here and allowing him to fret is not going to be good for anyone. Be a man and go and deal with this now.”

His brother looks between him and Catelyn, and then sighs, his shoulders sagging. He stands but before he leaves he looks at Benjen and asks. “Did you tell him about your suspicions?”

Benjen looks at his brother a moment and then whispers. “They are not suspicions brother. They are the truths that I told Jon.”

“Truths?” Catelyn asks. “What truths?”

“The truth of what I found at the tower of joy.” Ned replies simply.

It takes a moment for the realisation to dawn on his goodsister’s face but when it does she looks panicked. “Why did you tell him that Benjen? Now we are all in trouble!”

Benjen looks at his goodsister a moment and then says. “I told him because he needed to know. There is no point in merely telling him half-truths. If you are going to turn his world upside down you might as well tell him everything.”

His brother looks at him then with anger. “You just had to say it did you not? You could not let it lie? Now Jon is going to want to find his brother and sister and cause trouble for us all. I can understand being there to comfort him, but why did you have to tell him everything? Now you have just made it harder for us all!”

Benjen looks at his brother in contempt then and says. “He has been kept in the dark for far too long. It is time he realised who and what he is brother. It is time he knew the truth all of the truth. From start to finish he must know everything.”

“Why? Why must he know everything brother? He’s just a boy.” His brother replies

“He will be a man soon Ned. And you and I both know that this peace will not last for very long. Sooner or later something will happen that will cause a war the like of which we have never seen. He must be ready for that.” Benjen replies.

Ned moves toward him then and Benjen prepares to be hit, instead his brother merely walks past, Catelyn hot on his heels. Benjen stands there alone in his brother’s solar for a while, thinking over all that has occurred. Deep down he wonders if he made the right choice in telling Jon about his brother and sister, they are in Dorne, and yet the order knows of Jon and his brother and sister. It is his duty to ensure the dragons are protected, but the time is coming. The prophecy is coming true, they cannot allow things to go unchecked for much longer. Still, if he could spare his nephew the pain that is to come he would, he would spare them all.

Sighing he turns and walks out of his brother’s solar and walks back to his room. His thoughts are plagued by the ghosts of people past. Of running through these corridors with Lyanna, and walking hand in hand with mother, before she was murdered. Of speaking to father when the first signs of the gift came. So much has happened here, but it is time for him to leave. He has stayed for too long, he knows he needs to leave, but he needs his nephew to be ready before they both leave. The longer they wait the more dangerous it will become. Sooner rather than later they must both leave and prepare for the darkness that is to come. It will be too dangerous for them to remain here, but he does not want to take Jon before he feels ready to go. The sight has shown him what will happen if he does, and he does not want that to come to pass.

He enters his room and is not surprised to see a hooded figure stood there, the figure’s face is obscured by the mask of a dragon. But the voice is one he knows well. “Is it done?” the figure asks.

Benjen nods. “It is done. He knows now.”

“Good. I was beginning to lose patience.” The figure replies.

“How long do we have?” Benjen asks.

“Until the wolf howls.” The figure replies.

Benjen nods and then asks. “Where will you be?” but he gets no response, the figure has gone.


	15. Incursion

**2 nd Month of 297 A.C. Dunes**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

It pained him not being able to hold Rhaenys. Ever since he can remember they have always been close, they have always (mostly) agreed with one another and they have done everything together that they could do. That is why he is so upset with this plan, this plan that puts her in danger. Unnecessary danger, anyone else could have been used but her, and yet she refuses to see that. She refuses to admit that she is just as important for their future as he is. Without her, he is nothing. He does understand why she does not understand, or why she does not want to understand that. It angers him and frustrates him, and yet still he has gone along with this plan. He has agreed to it, and it is eating away at him. It is making him go mad inside. This worry he has, this worry he carries. It is eating away at him gnawing at his very being. He does not like it, and he does not want it to last, and yet it is.

Sat on his horse in the sweltering heat of the dunes, dressed in a cloak his armour underneath, waiting in what sparse cover there is whilst his sister is just a few feet away from him, is torture complete and utter torture. He wonders not for the first time, and perhaps not even for the last, why he ever allowed this to happen. Gods this is painful, this waiting he wants to ride forward and pull Rhaenys into his arms and kiss her and hide away from this. But he knows they cannot do that, they both cannot do that. Not with this hanging over them. They need to know, and yet the waiting is killing him. How Rhaenys manages to remain stationery throughout all of this he does not know, and he does not want to know.  He does not know how long he can keep doing this. By his side Arthur fidgets, as does Edric. It is driving them all mad this waiting, he knows it, Arthur knows it, and his uncle Oberyn knows it. By the gods this waiting is not for him.

A sudden movement draws his eye, the dust clouds are forming. There are clearly riders coming by. He tenses on his horse and waits. This is going to be the hardest part. Anders Yronwood is a brute, a big brute of a man. And seeing him ride his horse toward Rhaenys and stop and caress her face is driving him mad. He does not hear the words that are said, but he can tell Yronwood is going to kiss her before he does. And the sight of him doing that, of him forcing himself onto his sister nearly makes Aegon break from the plan. Only his uncle Elvar’s hand on his arm stops him from moving. His uncle merely shakes his head, not yet. They cannot move, not yet. Yronwood is saying something, something that has Rhaenys laughing the sight of that makes his stomach churn and jealousy flare in his gut. It is hard, to stay where he is and not move.

Yronwood and his party turn to move, and Aegon senses everyone around him move. Rhaenys is lifted from her horse and placed on Yronwood’s like some sort of prize. And Yronwood says loudly. “We have the water dragon now my boys. The Martells will rot.” There is a chorus of laughter at that and they begin riding off. Aegon watches them ride off anger flowing through his whole being, rage coursing through his entire body. He wants to rip the smug smile from Anders Yronwood’s face but he knows that doing so now would risk Rhaenys and that is something he is not willing to do. Aegon watches as they disappear into dust, and it is only then that they move into the clearing.  

He looks at his uncles and Ser Arthur and asks. “What do you think that means?”

“I think it means what we suspected is true. They are working for someone, either Tywin Lannister or someone else. We must move now.” His uncle Oberyn says.

“Will they ride for Yronwood?” Aegon asks, worried, the fortress is nearly impregnable.

“No,” his uncle Elvar says. “Knowing Anders he will more than likely ride for Skyreach or the Vulture’s Roost, somewhere where it is difficult for either side to make a true stance.”

“Then we must ride and find them now. I will not allow him to give Rhaenys to the lions. I would rather burn Dorne than see that happen.” Aegon says heatedly.

“You and I both nephew. But we must advance cautiously. There could be a myriad traps waiting for us. Ser Arthur and Elvar and the sun guard shall go with you, and I and the Sun swords shall go from the left.” His uncle Oberyn says.

“A smart plan. Hitting from the left and the right. And then forming the back to prevent a retreat or a push back.” Ser Arthur says. “Anders never was good at counteracting such things. If he could not hit it hard straight away it bored him.”

“Then what are we doing talking?” Aegon asks. “We must ride.” And with that he digs his feet into his horse and his horse gallops off after Yronwood. He can hear those behind him curse and either follow him or go off in separate direction. He does not care now, his only intent is to get Rhaenys and to kill that traitor and his entire family.

His horse is tearing through the dunes, used to the sand beneath its hooves. Aegon does not care his only thought is for Rhaenys. The thought of Yronwood kissing her or even touching her angers him. He will have the man’s head before this night is over. He will kill him with his own two hands if he must.  His horse picks up the trail and soon enough Aegon knows they will be behind them immediately. His heart is hammering as the advance continues, the horse’s hooves are present in the sand, and he knows, he can sense that Yronwood and his men will fall.  Aegon digs his heels in slightly more to speed his horse on and eventually he can see horses nearby. Those horses seem to stop slightly as they come closer into view.

A voice calls out. “And so the boy has come to greet us. How nice of you.” Yronwood’s mocking voice.

Aegon looks up and sees Yronwood on his horse Rhaenys somewhere either next to him or on another horse. “Traitor.” Aegon spits.

Yronwood laughs. “Me? The traitor I think not. Your uncle is the traitor boy. I am merely doing my duty to my king.”

“Do you truly think Robert Baratheon will reward you for giving him Rhaenys? He will likely kill you for hiding the truth from him, and then your lands will be given to someone else.” Aegon’s uncle Oberyn says.

There is a mad glint in Yronwood’s eyes when he replies. “I think not. This girl is worth much to King Robert, and my family and I will be safe. Whilst you and your family will be the ones to suffer for the lies you have told. All those Lannister cousins and guardsmen that have died, tell me whose work was that?” Aegon looks at his uncle in confusion and Yronwood laughs. “Ah so the boy does not know. The murder of innocents is on your hands boy. Their deaths have been arranged so that you could come to the throne.”

“And your death will be another one that adds to the body count.” Uncle Elvar spits.

“The bastard speaks. Now is this not something?” Yronwood says and his company laughs. “Tell me bastard, what do you know of truth and of honour? Nothing. You will die before you become a true man.”

“You have a big mouth for such a craven Yronwood. Is that your way of trying to hide how scared you truly are?” Aegon asks.

Yronwood looks angry then. “Yorick take the girl. We must deal with these traitors.”

Yronwood’s younger brother nods and rides with Rhaenys on his horse away. Aegon grits his teeth he hopes uncle Oberyn will come soon. He draws his sword. “Let us end this now then shall we Yronwood.”

The man does not deign to give a response he merely spurs his horse forward toward Aegon. Aegon has his sword up in time though, blocking the man’s swing. Using his strength he forces their swords apart and then begins his own attack. It is a battering really, swinging forward and backward, pushing himself and his horse to their limits. Yronwood is battered and hammered down, not given a chance to get his own attack in. Aegon allows his anger to fuel him, swinging his sword, slashing and cutting. Hacking and dashing, he smashes Yronwood’s sword and then breaks through the man’s pale defence before swinging his sword with such force that the man’s head is parted from his body. He spurs his horse on as Yronwood’s body moves down to the ground.

Yronwood men come advancing forward then. Aegon meets their challenge with a smile and a laugh. He swings his sword slashing, blocking and dodging blows. Some of their swings hit him, others do not. Most he manages to fell relatively easily. They fall down wounded or dead, and Aegon moves onward. He cuts through them like cutting bread. It is somewhat easy. Perhaps it is the energy and the adrenaline he does not know, but he allows it to fuel him. His swings are precise and more and more men fall to their deaths by his blade. Yronwood men fall and die and their cries are music to his ears. As more men fall he pushes onward determined to catch Yorick Yronwood.  The push continues, a big man falls to the ground his throat slit before Aegon and Aegon merely rides on.

His heart is hammering, there are not that many Yronwood men left, he hopes that uncle Oberyn is able to catch Yorick Yronwood before the man disappears. He comes face to face with a man he recognises as Cletus Yronwood, a handsome man and someone Aegon once respected, not anymore. The man is a good fighter, but Aegon is better, his swings cut through Yronwood armour and soon leave the man lying dead on the ground, his eyes staring unseeingly into the sky. Determined not to lose Rhaenys he rides through the rest of the men, Ser Arthur rides by his side as does Ser Mors Sand, they ride by his side and cut down those that Aegon misses.

Eventually they come to a scene of another battle. Uncle Oberyn and his men have clearly found Yorick Yronwood and whatever Yronwood men were stationed here. A fierce battle is reaching its final stages and when Aegon sees Rhaenys lying on the ground somewhere close by he barks commands and then rides toward her. “Rhaenys? Rhaenys?” he shouts.

“Aegon? Aegon what are you doing here?” his sister shouts back.

“I’ve come to get you sister. I was not going to let these traitors have you.” Aegon shouts.

“Then that works for both of us.” Yorick Yronwood barks coming to limp before Rhaenys his sword drawn.

Aegon dismounts from his horse his sword drawn. He says nothing but advances on Yronwood his sword swinging. Yronwood blocks one, two, and then three swings, but on the fourth loses his left arm. His shield arm. His right arm swings and swings, but Aegon ducks and dodges, before smashing into Yronwood again and again, until finally the man falls down Aegon’s sword buried in his chest. The man falls and Aegon walks past him to where Rhaenys sits bound. He looks at her and then raises her hands and pulls his knife out and cuts her bonds away. They embrace after that and he pulls her to him and kisses her until they are both breathless. “Are you well?” he asks.

His sister nods. “I am Aegon. Are you?”

“Now that I am with you I am.” He replies.

Before she can reply he hears a voice say. “Aegon? Rhaenys? What are you doing here?”

He turns around to see his cousin Quentyn standing there looking confused and concerned.

 


	16. What To Do?

****

**2nd Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon**

The words, the truth, it was all beginning to sink in, but it was not reassuring to him. Indeed, Jon was more confused now than he had been before. Gods he wondered whether this had been why his father, no his uncle, had not told him the truth of his parentage, to avoid the confusion and the doubt that would come with it? Jon did not know, and he was not exactly wiling to speak to his fa-uncle, now, not now. He was still very angry with Lord Stark for the things he had done. He had gone from being a motherless bastard to being a prince, gods, this was so much information, perhaps too much information for him. There was a small part of him that was worried that perhaps he might be like King Aerys the Mad, was there some reason his uncle had not told him because he feared what Jon might be? And Uncle Benjen? The mere fact his uncle knew of his true parentage and the fact that his brother and sister were alive, this was too much for him. He wanted to scream but instead he sighed.

“I thought I’d find you here.” He hears his brother say.

Sure enough when Jon turns round, Robb is standing there his hands across his chest. “What? What do you want Robb?”

“I want to know how you are.” His brother replies simply.

Jon sighs again. “How I am? I do not know brother. There are so many things I want to ask and say. I have so many things running through my head. I am afraid they will engulf me.”

Robb walks toward him and sits next to him. “Well why don’t you tell me what you are thinking, and perhaps together we can work through this together?”

Jon looks at his brother. “Where do we begin? There is so much to discuss. So very much, I do not know where to begin or even if I do want to begin.”

He feels Robb put his arm around him. “Do you want to continually feel like you do not where you are, or who you are? Do you want to feel like you are being torn between two places?”

Jon shakes his head. “No of course not.”

“Then let us start at the beginning brother. From what father told us. You are aunt Lyanna’s son.” Robb says.

“And Prince Rhaegar’s. A child born of two people who were too selfish to keep themselves to themselves.” Jon interrupts.

Robb goes on as if he has not spoken. “And you are a prince, that much is for certain. The two Kingsguard would not have been there when father arrived, had you not been a prince. And there is no chance that Prince Rhaegar would have had a child with Aunt Lyanna and not married Aunt Lyanna to ensure that the child was legitimate. Rhaegar Targaryen might have been many things but I do not think he was that much of an idiot.”

Jon snorts. “So at least I am true born. No matter that my father and mother caused a war so they could be together. The idiots. Complete and utter idiots.”

His brother sighs then. “They were young Jon. Well Aunt Lyanna was, she did not know any better. And besides had she not gone with the prince, you would not be here and we would never have known one another.”

“That is the only good thing to come from that then.” Jon says sarcastically.

“Oh? So getting to know Arya and everyone else? That is not a good thing. Perhaps I should go and tell Arya that, see how she reacts.” Robb responds and as he begins to stand, Jon pulls him down.

“Oh don’t be an idiot Robb, you know what I meant. I am glad I got to know all of you. I just wish that there was not this lie hanging over us all.” Jon replies.

His brother laughs slightly then. “But in all seriousness though Jon, what else is there? What more is there that is bothering you?”

Jon takes a deep breath and then says. “I wish father felt he could tell me. I do not know why he was so hesitant to tell me now. I mean I am not a child anymore, it is not as if I would go about screaming it from the roof tops.”

His brother laughs. “Well considering you did keep speaking of taking the throne I cannot say I blame father.”

Jon groans then. “Gods I did, didn’t I? I mean, it felt right at the time, and I still stand by what I said. Father did wrong by denying me the chance to know my true self before now. Surely he could have handled things better? Life would not be so difficult for any of us had he done so.”

Robb nods. “I agree brother, but father is still our father, no matter who it was who sired you, father raised you and taught you what you know. You cannot be thinking of disturbing him and worrying him like you were thinking of doing?”

“I do not know.” Jon says honestly. “A part of me does still want to do the things I said, Lord Eddard lied to me, and whilst I can somewhat understand why he did it, I do not appreciate the fact that he thought so little of me that when I brought this to his attention he tried to dismiss it as if it were nothing. I cannot stand by that Robb, whatever I am, I am still a man, and I have a right to be heard.”

His brother nods. “Indeed you do. But the question is how will you go about achieving that?”

Jon is silent as he considers this, he does not truly know. “I do not know brother. A part of me wants to leave Winterfell to go and find my brother and sister and never come back, and another part of me wants to remain here and see what changes now.”

“Well whatever you do decide to do, I will support you. I only want what is best for you brother.” Robb says standing up and clapping him on the back.

“I know.” Jon replies gratefully.

“Will you be here for a while yet?” his brother asks.

Jon nods and his brother merely nods before walking off through to the castle, leaving Jon alone to his thoughts. He has much and more to think about now. His mind is still whirring with all that he has learned and seen and done, but this conversation with Robb has helped him somewhat. It has made somethings clearer. Perhaps he was too hasty in declaring his uncle a coward, but there is still anger at his uncle present. There are some things that will not change. Perhaps they should not change, gods he does not know.

His musings are interrupted when he hears a cough and turns round to see Lady Catelyn standing there in the clearing where her son stood before. He looks at her and asks. “What may I do for you my lady? Or should it be aunt?”

He knows that perhaps his tone should not be so sarcastic hells he does not even know if Lady Catelyn knows but the sight of her and the memories of his fear make him speak this way. He expects her to tell him off, instead she merely sighs and says. “Call me whatever you want Jon. I have known the truth far longer than you have.”

This surprises Jon. “How? Did Lord Eddard tell you?”

Lady Catelyn shakes her head. “No I worked it out. Ned is too honourable to have broken his vows to me, and yet he would put your safety above his honour and so that is what he did.”

Jon looks at her and feels one more blow come and hit him. “Why did you not say anything? Why did you not act differently? If you knew the truth, you know that I am not the product of Lord Eddard’s dishonour, why did you continue to treat me as if I were?”

“Because it would have looked odd had I not.” Lady Catelyn replies simply.

“Odd? How? I was, and am a motherless bastard. I never felt I could belong here in Winterfell, and that is largely because of you.” Jon snaps.

Once more he expects Lady Catelyn to snap but she does not instead she says. “I continued to treat you as I had done before I knew the truth, because to suddenly change my treatment of you would have looked suspicious. The mere fact that your father, for that is what he is regardless of who sired you, brought you home to be raised amongst his trueborn children was seen as very odd. It would have looked even odder had I started treating you like you were my own flesh and blood. People would have looked askance and questions would have been asked.”

“So in order to keep a lie going you continued to treat me as dirt? Where is the fairness in that?” Jon asks.

There is a flicker of something in Lady Catelyn’s face then. “I did not treat you as dirt. You have had a good life here Jon. Yes you might not have had everything that your true heritage might have given you, but that has also meant you have become smart and you have learned things quicker than the others. You are alive because of this. If you look at the Boltons, they treat their bastards worse than I treated you. So do not speak to me of your poor upbringing for you know it is false.”

Jon feels anger grow inside of him then. “False? False? I grew up thinking I was not wanted here, that I would never belong in Winterfell because you were never kind enough to accept me. Even after you knew the truth you continued treating me like dirt. Like I was nothing. I grew up expecting to be cast aside at the first opportunity because of you. I am a prince my lady, and you are nothing, all you are is because of my ancestors. Why should I do anything for you?”

Anger flashes through Lady Catelyn’s face then. “Because I am the Lady of Winterfell, and whilst this might be your home, it is also my home. And you are lucky to be here and not out somewhere else. Whilst you remain living here, you will speak properly to me. Your ancestors are gone and dead. Someone else sits the throne. If you do anything to endanger our family, there will be no safety for you.”

Jon is shocked that Lady Catelyn would think he would do such a thing, and then remembers the words he said and he curses himself. But his anger makes him say this. “Is that a threat my lady?”

Lady Catelyn looks at him then, her eyes hard. “It is not a threat it is a promise Jon. I know you are angry and are upset, but you must remember others will be affected by your decision, and there will be consequences for whatever you decide.”

“What does that mean?” he snarls.

“It means that whatever you decide to do, I know Ned will support you, if not openly then somehow he will. But whatever you do, there will be consequences. Remember that before you decide.” Lady Catelyn responds.

“And what if the thing I decide to do threatens the family?” Jon asks.

“Then I will do all I can to convince you not to do whatever it is you think of doing. I will not have the family harmed.” Lady Catelyn replies.

“And if I do not comply?” Jon asks.

“Then you are not the boy I think you are, and you are not the man your father prays you are.” Lady Catelyn replies, before she turns and walks off.

Jon is left there by the heart tree is heart pounding and his head hurting. He stares at the heart tree and swears he sees red eyes looking back at him.


	17. Confusion Reigns

**2 nd Month of 297 A.C. Sunspear**

**Princess Rhaenys Targaryen**

The plan had worked, they had managed to ensnare the Yronwoods and as such had garnered some valuable hostages as it were. Having Anders Yronwood touch her had been a foul experience and one she did not want to relieve again. It was something that she never wanted to think about ever again either. There was so much wrong with what that man had said to her that, truly she wanted him gone from her mind. And though the man was no longer near her, she could still feel his presence, and she shivered and loathed it. She loathed it a lot. Aegon was talking to her once more, which somewhat made up for the way she was feeling, and that was good, she needed him there by her side now.

Especially considering what they had learned afterward. Seeing Quentyn there amongst the Yronwoods was something she had thought might happen, but she had not expected it to happen so soon. It had been a shock to her system, and to Aegon’s as well she knew, though he would not admit it. Their cousin for his part, continued to say he had no idea what it was that the Yronwoods had come out here to do. He had not known of their plans, and had only been told they were riding out to deal with bandits. He pleaded for leniency, and because of their shared blood they had given it to him. And yet Rhaenys knew Aegon was not in a forgiving mood. The Yronwoods were suffering for their role in the treachery, and sure enough Quentyn would.

They had arrived at Sunspear some three days ago, bringing their prisoners with them and Quentyn had been foremost among them. It felt strange truth be told, the man was her cousin and yet she barely knew him. He was a stranger to her and to his kin, and she felt sorry for him. Dragged into a mess he did not truly understand.  That sympathy was reflected in her voice, she knew, as she spoke. “My King, my prince, people of the court, I do hereby present to you Prince Quentyn of House Martell. He was captured during the raiding Dunes, and was found to be part of the Yronwood party. A party that had treasonous motives.”

There is a lot of murmuring at that, and Rhaenys sees her uncle Doran looking at his son, his eyes filled with sadness. His voice is still strong when he speaks. “Let Prince Quentyn speak. I would have the court hear what he has to say.”

There is more murmuring as Quentyn steps forward, at a butt of Hotah’s axe against the floor, the hall goes silent. Quentyn takes a breath and then speaks. “My princess, my prince, thank you for giving me the chance to speak. I will say this now, I had no knowledge whatsoever of what the Yronwoods were planning. Had I known I would never have agreed to it and would have done all I could to stop it from happening.”

“And how is it that you did not know of it? Did the Yronwoods not tell you all of what they were planning? Surely you did not think they were merely going out with so many men simply to deal with bandits.” Aegon asks his voice laced with contempt.

Rhaenys looks at their cousin and sees anger in his eyes. “I was told that we were riding out to deal with bandits. I saw no reason to question that explanation. I did not think they would lie to me.”

“And why is that? Surely the mere number of men they had with them would have alerted you to the suspiciousness of what they were doing and saying? Had there been any word of bandit attacks beforehand?” Aegon asks.

Rhaenys looks at her brother wondering why he is being so hard on their cousin. Quentyn to his credit maintains his story. “Again, I say that there was no reason for me not to believe that there was no bandit attack. I am not always told of such things, I am merely a ward there, not a member of the family.”

Rhaenys sees her uncle breathe a sigh of relief, but something does not sit right with her. “You are close, or rather were close to Cletus Yronwood the eldest son of Anders Yronwood were you not Prince Quentyn?”

Prince Quentyn looks surprised at the formality of her tone, as is she. And yet to his credit he does still replies calmly. “I was my princess.”

“Queen,” Aegon grunts. “She is your queen.”

“I was friends with him until he was killed. Why do you ask?” her cousin asks.

“Because I find it interesting that Cletus Yronwood, a man who would have shared his father’s confidence, did not tell you what it was exactly you were riding out to do. You two were close were you not?” she replies.

“We were yes.” Her cousin replies.

“And did you tell one another, the things that interested or worried you? Did you tell one another the important things about one another?” Rhaenys asks.

Her cousin looks slightly off put then. “I am not a girl, to share all my secrets with one person let alone multiple people. There are times when secrecy is required.”

“But you do admit to talking about confidential matters with Cletus Yronwood?” Rhaenys probes.

“We were good friends, I saw him as a brother. So yes of course we did. But what relevance does that have for this?” her cousin asks.

“It is relevant because it shows that Cletus if not his father might well have told you about their plan. Of the meeting that they were going to and their plans for me. I do not think it is believable that Cletus Yronwood would not have told you his plans out of some sense of duty and honour as your friend.” Rhaenys says.

Quentyn looks completely shocked at her explanation and she sees the realization begin to dawn on his face. “You think I willingly participated in this? For the love of the seven Rhaenys, I thought they were bandits. I did what I thought I had to do. But I was surprised to see you there as well as Aegon.”

“Did you not think to check the banners that were being flown by the men attacking you? They made it quite clear they were not bandits.” Rhaenys hears her brother asks contemptuously.

She closes her eyes a moment, and then looks at her cousin. He looks completely flawed. “I was told that those banners were a lie. That they had taken the banners from someone and were using them as bait.”

“So bandits would use the sun and spear of House Martell, and the three headed dragon of House Targaryen as bait would they? Bandits? Bandits would dare use our sigils? I think you did not think this through, either that or you did and you simply chose to ignore it.” Aegon snarls.

Quentyn looks outraged. “You think I had something to do with what Anders wanted to do with Rhaenys? I did not. Truly I did not. And if you think I did then you are delusional.”

“Tread lightly brother, or you might wake the dragon.” Rhaenys hears her cousin Arianne call out.

Rhaenys looks at her uncle Doran and sees the sadness reflected on his face, that she feels. She then takes a scroll from Maester Mellos. “I hold in my hand a written confession from Archibald Yronwood, where he admits to knowing about the plot, and actively trying to aid in it. He claims that you knew of it also and were willing to go through with it. Is this true?”

Quentyn looks aghast, and Rhaenys is not sure whether or not that is because he has been found out or because what Archibald has said is a lie. The next words out of his mouth seem to confirm the second thought. “That is untrue. Completely untrue. I had no willing part in that attempt on you Rhaenys.” Aegon growls something about titles but Rhaenys is not listening to him she is watching her cousin. “I do not know what you did to Arch, but he would never say such lies unless forced to.”

“Are you accusing us of forcing a confession?” Aegon snarls.

“I am. And I believe you have done this deliberately. Tell me my king, did Arianne sleep with you to get this confession or not? Because this stinks of her.” Their cousin shouts.

Rhaenys feels something akin to shock descend through her, she looks at Aegon and sees the blind rage on his face and breathes a sigh of relief. “A lie. I did not force anything, I have not slept with Princess Arianne. If you say such slanderous things about your own sister, then that must be the traitor in you talking.”

“The traitor in me talking? What are you on about?” Quentyn snarls.

“You are a traitor. You willingly participated in the attack and you damn well know it. You did nothing to stop them from hurting Rhaenys.” Aegon snarls back.

“I did not know she was there until after they were dead. How many times do I have to say this? I did not know, and I had no part in any of this!” Quentyn shouts.

Rhaenys takes another scroll then and with a heavy heart says. “Actually Quentyn we know you are lying. We have written evidence here that you have played a role in what occurred. Gwyneth Yronwood herself admitted to helping you with parts of the plan. Confess and end this trial now, or continue suffering through this humiliation.”

The broken look her cousin gets then confirms her thoughts, and she looks at the scroll and sighs internally, more lies and deceit, is there nothing that won’t come to it. The whispering has begun once more, and it does not die when her cousin says. “What do you want? What do you want me to say?”

“Why did you do it? Why did you betray your family?” Rhaenys asks.

Her cousin looks at her forlornly then and says. “Because the Yronwoods were my family. I have not known my brother or sister since I was a little boy. I have felt like an outsider on my visits back to Sunspear, and I have never felt a Martell. The Yronwoods made me feel part of something. They made me feel like I belonged. I might have committed a crime, but I did it for the family I believed in, not the one that disowned me.”

There is more murmuring that grows louder in volume as it continues. Rhaenys looks at her uncle Doran and sees the pain and anguish on his face. “You admit to what you have done?” she asks as she suspects her uncle cannot.

Her cousin dejectedly nods. “Aye, I confess. I could not help it, they showed me the way and I took it.  I will not apologise for trying to fit into something, something that my trueborn family did not give me, and never tried to give me.”

Rhaenys looks at her cousin then, her eyes filled with sadness, and says. “Very well. People of the court, you have heard the confession of Prince Quentyn Martell. It is now for the Prince of Dorne, Prince Doran to decide Prince Quentyn’s fate. Prince Doran.”

The hall is completely silent as they all wait for what her uncle will say. Rhaenys takes Aegon’s hand and she can feel the thrum of his pulse and his breathing. He is anticipating something or the other. Rhaenys only feels sadness, sadness that her cousin was pushed to such extreme lengths to achieve what he wanted, and something they could have given him if he had only asked. Her uncle takes a deep breath and then says slowly. “Prince Quentyn, you have confessed before the court and the King and Princess of the throne, that you were complicit in the attempted abduction of the Princess Royal and that you were part of the planning and action. This is a crime that some would say demands death, but you are a prince and were fostering with the Yronwoods. And so for this you will be banished to Essos to spend the rest of your days. If you return to Dorne, you will suffer death.”


	18. An Exile

**2 nd Month of 297 A.C. Sunspear**

**Prince Quentyn Martell**

The trial, gods that trial still gave him nightmares. It had been a farce, it had all been a farce and they had played it out so well, and yet there was a part of him that did genuinely think it had all been real. That what was about to occur was truly a punishment and not a trusted task. Cletus was dead, and that pained him, but Cletus had been a willing traitor, and that was something Quentyn could not abide by. He despised traitors he always had done. It was why he had originally asked for Lord Anders to knight him instead of uncle Oberyn, it was because of his uncle Oberyn that he had been sent to foster in Yronwood, because his uncle was an idiot who thought with his penis not his brain. But he was getting side-tracked, Rhaenys had played her role brilliantly.  Whoever truly was the spy and the mole in their court would have been convinced that he was guilty.

Still it felt strange knowing he would not be returning for some time. He saw the necessity in it but still. Shaking his head he looked at his father and said. “I have done what you asked of my father. The trial went according to plan. Now what more is there for me to do?”

His father looks deathly ill and Quentyn suspects he will not see him again. “You know your role. To keep an eye on Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys. There are forces working across the narrow sea that are not keeping to our goals and plans. We must remind them we too have an interest in those two Targaryens. You will go and befriend them and report back on their movements.”

“And should I get found out? What then?” Quentyn asks.

“Your uncle will be keeping an eye on you. There will be more than enough protection there waiting for you, should something go south.” His father reassures him.

“I do not think uncle Oberyn will be able to keep his attention on the plan for very long. Hells he might try and fuck Princess Daenerys it is said she is meant to be very beautiful.” Quentyn says dismissively.

His father gives a pained chuckle then. “That is why it will not be your uncle Oberyn keeping a watch over you. The order will most definitely making sure you are safe. And your mother’s brother will be there, if he already is not.”

“And what of Gerris and Archibald, will they be coming with me?” he asks.

His father sighs. “Gerris shall be going with you, as will Andrey Dalt. Archibald must remain here for a time. There are things that must be done to ensure that suspicion is not raised.”

“What of the Allyrions, how have they reacted to their ally’s drastic fall?” Quentyn asks.

This is when Rhaenys speaks. His cousin is very beautiful, very beautiful. “They are tearing themselves apart trying to come with a way to repair relations with us all. It is quite amusing. Lady Delonne is struggling to come up with a plausible explanation for why she and her son are known to have been committing treason.”

Quentyn laughs. “And has she been saying she was trying to do it for you Your Grace? I am certain that was the excuse she used whenever asked about what she would say if caught.”

His cousin laughs slightly at that. “Indeed it is. It seems she has not completely realized the depths to which she has plunged herself into. It is really quite sad truth be told. And all because she and Anders Yronwood could not wait for some power.”

“It is not over yet.” Father says then. “The Allyrions will still be plotting something more. They always are. Lady Delonne will look toward Ynys Yronwood now and think of doing something more. We must work to undermine Ynys now. And with what information you have provided us that should not be too hard.”

Quentyn looks at his father and asks. “Will you truly use her children as a means of getting her to remove herself? I do not know whether that is wise. Ynys can get quite aggressive when it comes to her children.”

His father looks unconcerned by this and merely says. “She is a mother, if she has any sense in her, she will do what I ask of her. Otherwise her children will not have a mother. And if she becomes angry because of that, then all the better. People do stupid things when they are angry. They give themselves away.”

Quentyn has a feeling that comment is directed more at his cousin Aegon who has remained silent throughout this whole exchange, than anyone else. Looking at his cousins he asks. “What will you do now? The Yronwood threat has been somewhat dealt with, where will you look to next?”

“Our brother shall be coming to meet us soon. We must make preparations for that.” Aegon says. “It might take some time, but I know he will come. And then of course we must meet with those lords out of Dorne who still carry our banner.”

“How will you meet them? Will they come to Dorne or will you go to them?” Quentyn asks.

It is his father who answers that question. “Some will be coming here under the guise of meeting for trade agreements. And the return visits will be done to solidify trade agreements. Oberyn will be used as the main advisor and host. And your cousins will go with him. Of course both parties will need to act in the strictest of caution, there is not much else that can be done for now.”

“What of the papers that have been given to you all?” Quentyn asks. “What of Anders Yronwood’s letters? What will you do with them?”

His father is silent and it is Aegon who speaks then. “Well the letters were informative, and it shows just how much weight Tywin Lannister truly has. But there is more to them than was being shown in the written words. There were mentions of others, but no specifics were given. There is more to it than just Yronwood and Lannister. There are other players involved.”

Quentyn looks at his cousin a moment and then asks. “And what will you do to find them? They could well be anywhere. One thing I learned from the Yronwoods was that those who have their fingers in a lot of pies, will often go around making sure their investments carry to term. There is definitely more to this than meets the eye, and yet one must wonder where it begins and ends.”

There is a moment’s silence then as they all consider this. Eventually Rhaenys speaks up. “From what one of those letters said, it seemed as though Yronwood and Tywin Lannister were communicating with someone in the Reach. Not someone who still looks toward us for direction but elsewhere. Perhaps even Highgarden. But the question remains if they know of us, why have they not gone to the usurper?”

“Because it would ruin whatever plans they have. Knowing of you, and not acting on it whilst treason, is something the Tyrells are good at. They would keep it for a time when it might come in useful, and they might very well be using it to keep any proper movement in check. The threat of Robert finding out is something that is a very strong one, but at the same time, the threat of him acting harshly toward them for keeping this a secret is also strong.” Father says.

“Then would it perhaps not make some sense to go and speak with them? Having the Tyrells onside would be a big advantage for when the war comes.” Quentyn asks.

“It would be, but there are certain things that the Tyrells want that we cannot give them. They want control over the king and the throne. And they can get that with Renly Baratheon or the other Baratheon child, but they cannot get that with Aegon or Rhaenys. There is too much there waiting for them to mess up. They will play it cautious.” Father responds.

“What of the Hightowers? Surely they are a house that will be wishing to assist us? After all Lord Leyton has provided several things for us in the past.” Rhaenys asks.

“The Hightowers, they are an interesting family. There is much and more to them that remains a mystery to us. And they have always been there providing when aid was needed. Yes there will be a time when they will need your help, your graces, and that time might come very soon.” Father says.

Quentyn looks at his father and asks. “Do you mean to use the Greyjoys then father?”

“Indeed, that would be something interesting to see. Maron Greyjoy is not as mad as his father or brother were. He owes us much and more, and when the time comes those debts shall be collected one way or another. Though we must make it seem as though it is being done on his own volition.” Father replies.

Aegon speaks then. “The Ironborn, a race that should not exist still. I am surprised the usurper did not remove them all when he had the chance. He does like removing families.”

“The Ironborn are a necessary evil. Robert Baratheon is a man who considers himself to be the saviour from the songs. He does not like getting his own hands dirty, he prefers it when someone else does the work for him. And besides removing the Ironborn does raise the question of whom would rule those islands. They are a desolate place that none else like. The Greyjoys seem to hold it together for now. In time another might rise to take their place.” Father says.

Another silence, and then after a moment’s thought Quentyn asks. “What of the wandering dragons? Where will I find them and how will I know them?”

“They will be in Pentos when the time comes. The magister is expecting you and Gerris. He knows of your coming though he does not know the motives behind it. And I intend for it to remain that way.” Father says.

“You think there is more to the magister than meets the eye?” Quentyn asks.

“I most definitely think there is more to the magister than we all suspect. A man like that does not simply pass over the chance for power as many times as he has done. No he wants something, and he wants it from Prince Viserys. I want to know what it is and I want to know how to stop it.” father says. Something must show on his face, for his father quickly says. “If you do not wish to go son, you do not have to. The trial has been had and done. The people know of your ‘guilt’ you can do what you like for a time.”

Quentyn shakes his head. “No I want to do this. I want to be of help. I did not have the chance to kill Anders Yronwood myself, there is more I can do. I know as you all do that the magister had been in contact with Yronwood, I can use that connection to make him feel freer in speaking around me.”

His father looks at him with something akin to pride, and Quentyn feels himself flush slightly. “A good plan son. Though be wary of how much you reveal and how quickly you do so. The Magister is not a fool, he will suspect something is at work should you go about your business too quickly. Take your time and get to know the crowd and the atmosphere first. And then when the time is right, only then reveal some of what you know. Never all.”

Quentyn looks at his father and says determined. “I will not give us away father. I promise.”

 


	19. Snow

**3 rd Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Jon Targaryen**

The past few moons had been chaotic for Jon, simply chaotic. He had learned more about himself over the past three moons than he had done for the past three and ten namedays before that. If he was being truthful with himself there were times when he still found it hard to believe. He would pinch himself just to make sure he was not dreaming and when he opened his eyes and the knowledge was still there and Robb would confirm it for him, he began to wonder if perhaps his father and uncle were not playing some sort of sick joke on him. Gradually he was beginning to accept himself for who he was. Not a bastard, not a Stark but a Targaryen, he knew he had some qualities of the dragon, his temper in recent moons and his dreams were being more and more clearer now. And then there was still the Stark side, the side that kept him comfort during the times when he worried he would lose himself. Of course he had wanted to speak with his father and had tried to do so on numerous occasions. And yet Lord Stark seemed to be avoiding him, that had ended today, and Jon was in his father’s solar looking at the man who had raised him and lied to him.

Jon looks at his father and sees the hesitation writ plain across his face. Silence stretches on for a time before his father eventually sighs and says. “You know the truth now Jon. You know all of it from the top to the bottom. If you hate me then so be it, but know that I did what I did for your protection. It might not have felt right to you, but I have done all that I did so that you could live.”

Jon looks at his father and knows that there is still some anger there, but there is also acceptance. “I know father. I understand why you did what you did. I might not agree with you, and your reasons, but I can see why you did it. I am grateful you gave me the chance to live and to know you and our family. But I still wish you could have been honest with me, if not when I was a child at least now.”

His father sighs. “I admit I was foolish to think that once you had overheard that conversation between myself and Benjen that you would simply forget it. And it was not right for me to not answer your question directly. I was wrong not to do so, and yet I am merely a man. I froze Jon. I am not proud of it son but I did.”

Jon wants to argue with his father, at least some part of him does, and yet a larger part of him wants to know more about his mother, and so he asks. “What was my mother like? You never spoke of her beforehand, and I can see why now. But it is out in the open as to who I am and who my parents are. I want to know whether my mother was a good person or not.”

His father looks at him a long time before finally responding. “Lyanna was a fierce girl and lady. She knew what she wanted and she would do anything in her power to get it. There was no stopping her once she set her mind to something. A trait that you share. She was a kind girl who always tried to see the best in people.”

Jon looks at his father and asks. “Then why did she run away with Prince Rhaegar? From what you have said I do not believe my mother was the type of woman to allow herself to be forcibly taken anywhere.”

A pained look crosses Lord Stark’s face then. “Lyanna had the wolf’s blood. She was very impulsive and would often do something without truly thinking about the consequences. It was only later when what she had done came back to hit her in the face that she worried about it.”

“She was betrothed to King Robert.” Jon says simply. “Did she have no honour?”

A look of anger crosses Lord Stark’s face but it stays there only briefly before disappearing. “She was only a child when she left. Prince Rhaegar charmed her with his words and his music and she believed the tale he spun for her. She did not want to marry King Robert, she said as much beforehand and yet we did not listen to her. Perhaps if we had…”

Jon feels anger grow inside him at this. “My mother was no older than I am now when she ran away with the Prince. I know that what she did was a complete dereliction of duty. Surely she would have done so as well. And running away with a married man? Where was the honour in that?”

Lord Stark sighs once more. “I did not say what she did was right Jon. I merely said that I could somewhat understand why she did it. Lya could not know that our brother would think with his anger and not his brain and storm off to King’s Landing. Nor was she to know that King Aerys would burn our father and brother. If anything Rhaegar was the man who should have known better. And yet he did not.”

A fear that has been lurking in his mind comes to the fore then. “Do you hate me father? Is that why you never told me who my mother was? Was it because you hated her and me for what we had cost you?”

Lord Stark looks at him long and hard then, and Jon can feel his heart hammering in his chest. “Hate you? I could never hate you Jon. I love you. You are my son in all but name. You are my blood, and no matter how you came into the world and reasons for it, you are blameless. If anything it is your parents who must take the blame. And whilst I might not have liked Lyanna for doing what she did, she was my sister, I could never hate her.”

Jon nods and they fall into silence for another period of time, until picking up the courage Jon says. “There is one other thing I wanted to speak to you about my lord.”

His father looks at him somewhat apprehensively. “What is it?”

“My brother and sister. I know where they are and I suspect that they might know about me. I wish to meet them.” Jon says.

Lord Stark looks apprehensive at this and says. “There are a lot of risks involved with that Jon. They might not know who you are, and they might not believe you if you were to say that to them. Furthermore, Dorne is not the best place for a Stark to go, we do not have the best of luck there.”

Jon is not deterred. “I have a feeling they know of me and want to meet me father. Why should I not go, we all know that the Dornish have never forgiven the Baratheons or the Lannisters for what happened to Princess Elia. Why would they not give me an easy time, if I should go there knowing who I am. It is not right that I do not go and meet them, at least once.”

“I do not know Jon. There are too many risks involved in this. I am not willing to risk your safety for some haphazard journey. Dorne is a dangerous place for anyone, and for a Stark it is even more dangerous.” His father replies.

Jon can feel his anger begin to grow. “But I am not a Stark father. You made sure of that. I am a Targaryen prince, and I am sure that if I said as much then they would not do me harm.”

“And what makes you so certain of that? To the outside world you look exactly like a Stark.” His father says.

Jon hesitates for a moment, uncertain if to say what he was told. But deciding that it will be the only way to convince his father to allow him to go he says. “Uncle Benjen told me they know. He says he has friends in Dorne who are aware that my brother and sister know of my existence.”

A look of shock mixed with anger passes across his father’s face and then he says. “Did he now? And what makes you so certain that your uncle Benjen was not merely saying that to keep you placated?”

Jon feels his anger begin to flare, struggling to keep his voice calm he says. “Because Uncle Benjen has never lied to me about such things unlike you my lord. And besides I know they know about me. I can feel it.”

His father looks at him sceptically, and asks. “What do you mean you can feel it?”

Jon is not sure how to explain it, but tries. “I can feel certain things that are not known to me. Anger, when I am happy, worry when I am calm. I do not know how else to explain this, apart from a connection with my siblings.”

His father looks somewhat worried. “You will need to see Maester Luwin. If you are to go travelling you cannot go about speaking of such things.”

“You will let me go?” Jon asks eagerly.

Lord Stark sighs. “I do not know. You remind me too much of Lyanna sometimes, you will not give up until you get what you want. But you will not go alone. Your uncle Benjen will go with you, next time he leaves on his travels. I do not want to arouse suspicion, not with Robert.”

Jon looks at his father then, another matter he has been wanting to discuss coming up then. “What about Robert Baratheon? Where do you stand with regards to him?”

His father looks somewhat confused by this. “What do you mean where do I stand with regards to him? He is the king. The king I fought for.”

“But he is also the man that would see me dead, and perhaps the entire family should he find out that I am Lady Lyanna’s son. Is he truly a man you want to fight for?” Jon asks.

His father looks angry. “I swore an oath to Robert. I will not break it.”

“You swore an oath to my mother as well. You promised to protect me. There will always be a risk that Robert Baratheon will learn the truth of what happened at the Tower of Joy and who I am. Who I actually am. Do you want that threat constantly hanging over the family father? Do you want that?” Jon asks.

His father’s voice is angry when he replies. “What you are asking is treason Jon. I will not abandon a vow I made to my friend and my king for some imagined threat.”

Jon looks at his father surprised at what he is hearing. “Are you sure the threat is imagined. You were there when my brother and sister’s bodies were supposedly presented before your friend. You saw his reaction. What do you think it will be like if he finds out who I am and what you have done? He will not spare you.”

“What do you want me to say?” his father asks.

“I want to know where you stand. If Robert ever finds out, what will you do?” Jon probes.

His father looks torn then, and a long silence follows, eventually his father breaks it saying. “You are my son in all but name Jon, I learned a long time ago that family means more than duty. But there is honour as well, and I made an oath to your mother and to you that I would always protect you and ensure you were safe. I cannot honour that oath if Robert were to wage war on you. I must do what it takes to prevent that. I care for you to much to allow you to die. You are my blood, and my family means more to me than anything. If it comes to it I will fight for you. You have my solemn word.”


	20. Intrigues

**5 th Month of 297 A.C. Sunspear**

**Princess Rhaenys Targaryen**

Quentyn had left for Essos with many people there observing his supposed disgrace, there was jeering and shouting. Many people called him a traitor and other such names, it was sad truth be told, that they could not tell the people of Dorne the truth, for doing so would only alert their enemies to the fact that they knew the game that they were playing. And so Quentyn had taken all the booing and jeering in his stride, his head held reasonably high, she admired him for that. She admired him for agreeing to this plan, he could well have said no, and yet he had not done so. In her opinion, Quentyn was far braver and nobler than his elder sister, Arianne was nothing more than a lout, someone who did what she felt would sate her, Rhaenys did hold some contempt for her cousin and yet she loved her all the same.

That was why right now she was trying her hardest not to snap at her cousin as she pretended to be outraged. “Why could you not have told me that my brother was acting on your orders? Why did you not feel comfortable enough to tell me of this plan in the first place?”

“Because there are people within your group who speak too much. And though we love you dearly cousin, we know that you cannot keep your mouth shut when told something dearly secret.” Aegon replies his voice calm.

“I am insulted that you have such little faith in me Your Grace. Surely as the elder sibling I should have been more trusted with such information. I could have gotten as much if not more information from the Yronwoods and the Allyrions as Quentyn did and there would have been no need for this spectacle.” Arianne says.

“How would you have done that Arianne?” Rhaenys hears her brother ask. “We all know the methods you use. And whilst I cannot claim to be any better than you, I do not brag about my conquests to anyone else. It is because of who I am that they become knowledge. And yet with you, you would have told someone who would have told someone.”

“I still feel as though I should have been told. I am the heir to Dorne, I deserve to know of her plans.” Arianne pouts.

Rhaenys feels her patience begin to run out. “And yet you have not done anything to show that you are the deserving heir to Dorne. You have allowed your lust to do your thinking for you cousin. Gerold Dayne would never have been able to plan what he did had you not spoken to him of our visit to Starfall. The mere fact you did smacks of your love for pretty boys.”

“As if you are one to speak cousin!” Arianne snarls. “You have been fucking your own brother like a true Targaryen from the time we were all able to understand what such a thing meant. Do you not remember that it was that that caused your grandsire’s madness?”

Rhaenys feels her anger begin to grow then and says. “Watch what you say Arianne. I might not be queen but I am still your princess. And I am not like my grandfather, neither of us are. We are doing what we must to ensure the survival of our family. And whilst that might not involve sleeping with his grace, the King, we cannot help who we are attracted to now can we?”

Her cousin blushes slightly. “Then why are you persecuting me for my choice of Gerold? How was I to know he was a traitor of the deepest sort? If you had told me of your plans, perhaps this would never have happened and Quentyn would never have needed to be sent away in such a fashion.”

Rhaenys looks at her cousin, her anger cooling slightly. “We did not mean to hurt you Arianne, but you have been known to speak of things that perhaps you should not have spoken of. We could not take the risk that someone we did not want to know would find out.”

Arianne is silent a long moment before she speaks. “Is all of what you have told me about Quentyn true then? He was always working for you the whole time?”

Rhaenys looks at her brother who merely nods. “He was. We spoke with him long before the incident at Starfall, after Ynys Yronwood was paid a visit. We needed to make sure that they did not suspect anything, and as such they have suffered for it. The Lannisters have lost a very valuable ally because of their dependence.”

Her cousin looks somewhat shocked. “You mean that whole little escapade in the dunes was so that house Yronwood would fall to its knees?”

“It already has,” Rhaenys replies calmly. “Ynys Yronwood and her children are gone, fled into the winds, only the Big Man and Gwyneth Yronwood remain, and they are working for us now. They shall not dare cross us again.”

Rhaenys takes some deep satisfaction from the look of amazement on her cousin’s face, of course uncle Doran decides to speak then. “Now that you have all caught up on what is what, we must move onto another issue. Quentyn is entering an unknown. He is taking a great risk, we do not know truly how reliable or stable Viserys Targaryen is. Oberyn what are your spies saying?”

All eyes went to her uncle Prince Oberyn, who was silent a moment before he spoke. “My spies are not reporting as frequently as they used to, and whilst that does not concern me overly much, I would not be surprised if the cheesemonger has had them run off. What information I do have suggests that Viserys Targaryen is an angry man. An angry young man with a grudge against the world. He expects complete submission from everyone.”

“And what of our aunt?” Rhaenys asks. “How does she do?”

Uncle Oberyn is silent a moment. “She does okay, as well as Viserys will allow her to do. He has a very domineering personality, and as such I do not think he does well when people question his authority. When she was young the princess was a very inquisitive girl and asked many questions, Viserys did not like that. She has since become submissive.”

Rhaenys feels anger then. “We should have done more for her. We should have risked the usurper’s wrath one more time. This is not right. She is a princess of the blood, not some sort of chattel.”

Aegon takes her hand then and says. “We will do all we can to ensure that our aunt is brought to Westeros as befits her station. But first we must learn more about our uncle. Go on uncle Oberyn.”

Uncle Oberyn nods and says. “Viserys is a man with an angry heart, and a dark temper. He is known as a good fighter, having proved himself fighting in the Second Sons, and the cheesemonger I know has been whispering in his ear about this, that and the other. The specifics evade me now, but I know that Your Graces, might have a tougher time winning him to your side.”

Rhaenys feels a slight panic then. “Were we wrong to send Quentyn off to Essos then? If Viserys takes wrongly to what he says, that could end badly for us all.”

“Quentyn shall be safe,” uncle Oberyn says. “I have my best men and women looking out for him. If Viserys even thinks of trying to make a move on Quentyn when he reveals the truth, Viserys will be pacified instantly.”

Rhaenys did not want to think about how that would be done, she had heard the rumours of the methods her uncle used. Instead she asks. “Will the cheesemonger be an impediment to our union do you think uncle?”

“I do not think so, from what I have gathered, the cheesemonger is working for Your Graces restoration, and yet from the way he acts and manoeuvres his pieces one would not think so. He plays his role in a very strange fashion, whispering all the while to Viserys about this lord and that lady. I will ensure a closer eye is kept on him.” Her uncle replies.

Rhaenys nods and then her uncle Doran speaks. “Word has come from King’s Landing Your Graces, an investigation is being launched into the deaths of several prominent Lannister guardsmen. These deaths have scared the Queen whore into action and as such are having the desired effect.”

Rhaenys looks at Aegon and smiles then. “Do you know if there have been any major leads found or discovered? Do they have someone they think is the main perpetrator?”

Her uncle smiles. “Of course they believe we might have something to do with it, but as we have no one in King’s Landing they cannot truly link us back to the murders. So they are left scratching their heads. They have no solid perpetrator and so are left in a state of high emergency.”

 “Exactly how we want them to be.” Rhaenys says smiling. “For then they will be more content to look inward toward King’s Landing and the Crownlands, than further afield. Quentyn should be safer that way, and indeed the usurper will not likely look towards us or even try to pay attention now.”

“Indeed, that is very true my princess.” Uncle Doran says. “But still precautions shall have to be taken. We cannot allow for word of what more has happened since the Dunes to get out, otherwise that will certainly peak interest at court. Tywin Lannister will no doubt be looking for a means to try and gain more access now.”

“Will he look to further ties with the Allyrions then do you think? Considering they were quite deep into the Yronwood alliance.” Rhaenys asks.

“I am not entirely sure, the Allyrions are a family that have long held loyalty to the Yronwoods for one reason or another. It is possible that they might look toward renewing their fealty as they should do, but then Lady Delonne is a lady who knows which side to go to, and should Tywin Lannister make her an offer, then I would not be surprised if she accepted it.” uncle Doran replies.

“Would she really turn her back though? She owes the mere fact that she was not burned down to the ground during the rebellion to your leniency father, would she really forget that? For the money of a child slayer?” Arianne asks.

Rhaenys looks at her uncles then, uncle Doran looks tired and withdrawn, and uncle Oberyn looks angry as well. Uncle Doran’s voice is soft, worryingly soft when he says. “I would not be surprised if she did so. She is a woman who above all else values money, nothing else matters to her. Her house has run into some difficulty as of late, and so she will want to repay that debt.”

“Is there no hope for her then? Or her family? They must suffer for their crimes?” Arianne asks.

Rhaenys speaks then. “If we can prevent it then we will. But at the same time we cannot allow such treason to go unpunished otherwise there will be not a chance for us to truly solidify a hold on the throne and show that we will not be pushed over.”

Her cousin is silent then thinking over what has been said. “What of Daemon Sand? Would he not be spared from the punishment? After all he is but a bastard what sort of choice do you think he would have had?”

Aegon speaks then. “He would have had a fair choice. Ser Ryon favours his bastard highly, and as such would not want for him not to have a say in the course of action. That is why they must all be brought to justice for the crimes they have committed, or will commit. There is nothing more for them here.”

Rhaenys nods, though she wishes it could be different.


	21. Travelling Wolf

**8 th Month of 297 A.C. Darry**

**Prince Jon Targaryen**

The past few months had been interesting for Jon, he had said an emotional goodbye to his family, promising them all that he would write to them when he could, and promising his father- for that was what Lord Stark was no matter whose seed he was- that he would try to stay out of trouble. He had been filled with excitement at the prospect, excited at getting out of the north and seeing the world, his uncle’s tales had come back to him thick and fast during those first few heady days. The day spent at Cerwyn was alright, but Jon itched for more, and onto the Square where Jon had enjoyed sparring with Benfred Tallhart as well as his cousins, Jon had gotten the sense that there was something different about these interactions, there was more reverence amongst the lords and their families and he wondered, just wondered if they knew, but his father would not risk such a thing would he? His doubts increased after time spent in White Harbour where lavish feasts were thrown for him and his uncle and Lord Wyman spoke of oaths of old and marriages that could bring great prosperity.

The Riverlands was something even more confusing for Jon, the land of Lady Stark, he had expected hostility and yet the Twins had given him a warm reception the dreaded Walder Frey had even welcomed him and praised his skill to a highest height, and that was something Jon was told he never did. That the man showed him his daughters and granddaughters, and even great-granddaughters was even more surprising. From there they had gone to Seagard where they were greeted like royalty such a thing made Jon wonder, but then he dismissed it, his uncle and Lord Jason were old friends and that might be the reason for why such things were being done. From there Riverrun had greeted him and that had been the biggest surprise, there was no coldness from Ser Edmure or even the old and ageing Lord Hoster, only warmness and frankness. Anything he had wanted he had gotten and that, that was something that was totally new to him. Slowly but surely he was beginning to think that his father might well have told his allies, though why he was not sure.

And now there was Darry, the Darrys were an old family and had once been powerful but Rhaegar’s folly had cost them dearly, and now, now they were showing him all the attention as if he was a king, when he was not. He looked at the hall around him and spoke. “This is a fine feast you have thrown Ser Raymun, I hope it was not simply on my account?”

Ser Raymun Darry, a lean man with strong arms and a deep voice seems to blush slightly. “It was no trouble my prince, no trouble at all. It is an honour to be hosting one such as you. Someone from so ancient a house gracing us with your presence is a blessing for us.”

Jon looks at his uncle Benjen who merely shrugs his shoulders before he continues. “I am glad, the honour is mine. Your castle is a very grand castle my lord. It seems a shame that others do not recognise its beauty. This should be spoken about in the same tones as the Rock and the Red Keep, and from what I have seen it is for sure the finest keep in the riverlands.”

Jon hides a smile as Darry blushes. “Thank you my prince, it is an honour my prince. Truly an honour to be hosting one such as yourself here. Truly, if my father were alive he would be singing with joy at the thought.”

Jon feels slightly uncomfortable with the level of praise being heaped on him by this man and so he hesitates for a moment before saying. “Truly, my lord, the honour is mine. I wish to thank you for hosting myself and my uncle during our time of travel. And I know it might be a risk to you considering the king’s current feeling toward your family, but nonetheless I thank you for it.”

Darry waves a hand dismissively. “That fat fool will not live for too long. It is known that he drinks and whores, and such men do not have the chance to see the error of their ways before it is too late. When the time comes he will know about it, and then he shall fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness for his crimes.”

“You seem certain of this my lord,” Jon notes. “What makes you so certain that King Robert will not survive for much longer? Surely there is something to the contrary. The man is in good health and his legacy is secure with his heirs. He is in a strong position.”

The knight looks at him and asks. “Do you think your father will truly support that fat fool, should something come between them? I do not think Lord Eddard would do such a thing, for from my encounters with the man it seems that he values blood and family more than someone whom he has not seen in eight years. Of course I could be wrong, you know him better than I my prince.”

There it is again, the title, Jon unable to hold back anymore asks. “Why do you keep calling me a prince my lord? Is there something you know that you wish to speak of?”

Silence and then. “There is my prince, I know the truth. I have always known the truth, that King Rhaegar was survived by his children after his death. There was no point in denying it, or in denying you your rightful title. You are a prince and it is my duty and my honour to serve you and your family.”

There are two things Jon wants to speak of after that, his interest piqued. “And how do you intend to serve me and my family? Considering the realm is far too easy at peace right now.”

The man is silent a moment and then he replies his voice filled with pride. “I will do whatever it takes to see your family on the throne, anything you ask I will not hesitate to do. It is your god given right to be the ruling family of Westeros, anyone who says differently is a fool, and need only look at how the kingdoms have fared since the usurper has sat the throne.”

“The kingdoms have been at peace for eight years since the Greyjoy rebellion, and the realm has known nothing but prosperity under King Robert. Your claim seems weak.” Uncle Benjen says.

Ser Raymun looks at his uncle then his eyes appraising. “You cannot speak as such my lord. You know as well as I do that the kingdoms are falling apart at the seams, the Lannisters grow richer as the year’s role by, and the King allows corruption and evil into his court. There is nothing good or pure about his court.”

Jon looks at his uncle wondering how he could know such a thing, but before he can ask his uncle says. “That is true, the man has often given way to avarice and greed rather than to allow himself the chance to clear the dust from his eyes. And now with tidings in Dorne it seems things are moving much quicker than could have been anticipated.”

Jon snaps to attention then. “Tidings in Dorne? What tidings?”

His uncle looks at him a moment and then at Ser Raymun the man nods and then his uncle says. “It seems there was an attempt on your brother and sister’s lives in Dorne.”

Jon stands up then, and sees the eyes of the people in the hall look at him because of this, blushing slightly he sits down and whispers fiercely. “When did this happen? What happened, and why did you not tell me of this?”

His uncle sighs then and says. “Because nothing went wrong, they found the culprits and had them killed after getting the relevant information from them. They are fine and now eagerly await your arrival.”

Jon looks at his uncle a moment and then asks. “Are you sure? How would you know anyway?”

His uncle is silent a moment and then replies. “I have friends in Dorne who have kept me informed of their progress for a long time, just as they know of your progress.”

Jon is taken aback by this and looks at his uncle. “They, you…. You have been telling them about me?”

His uncle nods. “Aye, only what they needed to know, there was nothing sinister about this. I have told you some of what I know of them as well have I not my prince?”

Jon nods his head, thinking of the descriptions of his brother and sister, one a warrior in the flesh the other as beautiful if not more so than the maiden herself and fierce as Nymeria. “You have uncle, and for that I thank you.” He pauses a moment remembering something Ser Raymun had said earlier, looking at the knight who has been looking at him for a long time he asks. “Ser Raymun you mentioned something earlier about my father, the man who sired me. You called him King Rhaegar did you not? And yet he was never crowned.”

The man is silent, clearly thinking over how much he can and cannot mention, eventually he says. “King Rhaegar might never have been crowned by the High Septon, but that is a ceremony that has increasingly come to mean little to nothing. The High Septon has always been a creature of the master of coin since the days of King Aegon the fifth of that name, it is a sad state of affairs truth be told. When it became clear that King Aerys was too far gone to be a good king, when the madness began to worsen, the great lords of the realm all met and agreed that Prince Rhaegar had to be crowned, and so an ancient custom used by the first men was used, a document with the signatures of many of these lords was signed and it was supposed to be presented to Prince Rhaegar, now King Rhaegar at Harrenhal, but King Aerys came and ruined it all. And then the rebellion occurred and it all went south.”

Jon considers this a moment and then asks. “Is this true though? Why is there no record of this at all, why is there no solid written evidence of that?”

The man is silent a moment and then says. “Because the Lannisters did not want their involvement with it known. Tywin Lannister needed to remain friendly with the new regime, and so he had it destroyed. Completely destroyed. It is a shame, for it shows that once King Rhaegar died on the trident, your brother became King through this succession method.”

Jon takes this in and then says. “That is all well and good but unless my brother takes the throne back he will never sit it. He will need to fight for the throne, the throne that our ancestors built. And right now Robert Baratheon is in too secure a position for that to happen. Something needs to break for this war to happen.”

“The usurper will fall, you have my word on that my prince. The man cannot continue on the path he is now without falling into the traps that the Unworthy fell into as well. He will fall and his family shall fall with him.” Darry responds.

Jon is not sure he understands and so he asks. “How can you be so certain that this will happen? You talk as if this is a given, and yet if there is anything the past few moons have taught me, it is that nothing in life is certain. So pray tell me my lord, how do you know that this will happen? How do you know that the usurper will die?”

Darry looks at him then and smiles. “Because the Lannisters are not the only ones with a presence in the capital, and the time of the dragon is coming.”


	22. Dragon's Fury

**8 th Month of 297 A.C. The Water Gardens**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

The past few months had been mad, there had been the Yronwood plot which had been significantly reduced and destroyed, and then there had been his disagreements with Rhaenys over her part in the plot, something that truly he was still not happy about. Then there had been Quentyn’s role in all of this, his willing exile, something Aegon still struggled to get his head around. His cousin was a brave man to be attempting such a thing for them, and he knew that they owed him a huge debt, one that might not ever get repaid. Finally, there had been the discovery of their brother Jon, that, that was the biggest change in the past few moons, and one Aegon was desperately trying to find. He wanted to meet his brother, very much so, especially since now word had filtered through that his brother knew of who he was and who they were.

He looks at his sister, who is sat overlooking the pools of the water gardens, her face sombre and solemn, he takes her hand and she looks at him her eyes questioning. “Why do you look so down sister? This is a good time for us, the Yronwoods have been destroyed, the Allyrions are on their knees, and the rest of Dorne waits for our move. Quentyn is away doing a job that could bring our family back together. Our brother knows of us and who we are, and who he is. He is coming to meet us.”

His sister sighs. “I am worried, I am very worried about Quentyn, my love. He is going across the narrow sea on a journey that could end with his death, gods alone know what our uncle and aunt are truly like. They could well kill him there and then for simply speaking the truth.”

Aegon squeezes Rhaenys’ hand and says. “I am sure he will be okay Rhae, he is going there escorted by some of Uncle Oberyn’s finest men. They are ensuring that no word of this gets back to the usurper or his spies, he will be okay. And if our uncle is not in his right mind, Quentyn knows that he needs to pull back. He knows not to put himself in harm’s way completely.”

His sister shakes her head. “You know he will probably do so anyway. He wants to prove himself to his father and to us. And that is the biggest risk of all, for it means he will be far too reckless to truly make a smart decision when it truly counts. That is my fear. That and the fact that Jon has finally left Winterfell.”

Aegon had been looking for an opening to discuss their brother, and now his sister has presented it to him he takes it willingly. “Jon will be fine, he is well protected our allies know of his coming. But I still believe that we must go and meet him. He is our brother, he is a prince of the blood and he knows we live, why should we remain here hiding? We have nothing to hide.”

Rhaenys looks at him with annoyance. “You know exactly why we cannot go gallivanting out of Dorne brother. The Yronwood plot was just one of many that may have been used by Tywin Lannister to lure us out of our comfort zone, and into some sense of treachery. He wants us for some reason, he wants us aware that he knows. If he knows we are leaving Dorne he will have all sorts of plans in place for our capture.”

Aegon shakes his head at this. “Surely you cannot believe all the dribble the Yronwoods gave before they were killed? They have always been ambitious and have been working with the Allyrions for years. What is there to say that they did not completely work on this on their own? Tywin Lannister would never willingly keep such a secret as our survival away from the King or the Queen. They are his family and he can gain more from telling them of our existence.” Aegon pauses as another thought comes to him. “Or if he sends someone to abduct you. That would be another reason why he might well decide that you are worthwhile.”

“Can you see why I am worried? I do not want to give Tywin Lannister the chance to capture me or you, or us both. That would throw far too many wrenches into our plans, and that is something I will not allow. If we leave Dorne, Jon is placed in even greater danger. It is all well and good him visiting those castles of our loyal lords, but it is another thing for us to actively go and find him. If we leave, you can be sure that many people will know of it.” Rhaenys replies.

“I know that there is sense in what you say, and yet he is our brother. He has grown up for so long not knowing who or what he is. Surely you can see why I want to go to him and ensure that he knows just who he is. And that he is most welcome with us. He is a prince of the blood and my heir until we have a child, we cannot allow for him to grow ignorant of just what that means. He must know.” Aegon insists.

His sister’s face twists slightly. “He might be your heir for now, but that might not always be the case. Regardless, last we heard he was in Darry, he is safe there for now. No doubt Raymun Darry will be promising all sorts of wild and unconscious things to show his loyalty. Jon will be safe there for a long time so long as all else goes according to plan.”

Aegon runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “That is the thing Rhae, things have a habit of not going accordingly. Just look at the Yronwood plotting and the whole execution of that. We must have a reason to leave Dorne you say? Then what better reason than to visit some lords. We have done it once before, travelling in disguise, and we succeeded.”

His sister groans then. “That was just the two of us travelling against uncle Doran’s orders Aegon, and we did not stray too far. We only went to Uplands and we knew we would be fine there because of our correspondence with Lord Martyn and his assurances that he was nothing but loyal, and even then I did have my doubts. We cannot take such a big risk as to go into the Riverlands that would be close to suicide.”

“I am not saying we go to the Riverlands Rhae,” Aegon begins. “I am saying we prepare for when Jon comes into the Reach or the Stormlands. We know the Rowans and the Carons will want to meet with him, as Benjen Stark has friends there. There is no reason we cannot be there waiting for him as well.”

His sister looks at him fiercely a moment before replying. “Wait for him? How can we wait for him if we do not even know where he is meant to go? Communication with Stark will be scarcer now they are moving out of loyal territory, there is no guarantee that they will go to where they say they might go. It is far too much of a risk and smacks of carelessness, do you want to give Tywin Lannister an excuse to send more men after us?”

Aegon sighs impatiently. “I will not sit and twiddle my thumbs waiting for Jon to come to us. I have waited long enough for this, if we do not act now, we never shall. We are not bloody lambs that we need Uncle Doran’s permission to do anything anymore, we are both adults, it is time we started acting as such.”

“Adults do not go charging off without a direction or without a lead Aegon! Kings especially do not do such things. If you want to act like an adult, you must have a plan and know exactly what it is you are doing. If we leave now, we will be stuck. We must know exactly where and what Jon is doing before we set off, or failing that we must have a ways to communicate with him where we shall be.” Rhaenys snaps.

Aegon looks at her stunned and pulls his hand away. “I never said I did not have a plan sister. I just did not want to use it. For it sickens me. It truly does.”

His sister’s face softens then and she goes to take his hand once more, but Aegon moves away slightly. “Aegon,” he hears her say. “You know I would not be doing this if it were not necessary. We need allies, and we cannot simply expect the lords to continue to follow us just because we are what we are. We must have some sense about this. And Bryce is a powerful lord. He will bring many men to our cause.”

“That does not mean I have to like it. The man is a stormlord Rhaenys, he owes fealty to the Baratheons, and how do we know that he has not betrayed us to them? The man is treading a very thin line here.” Aegon says.

“Because he is nothing but putty in my hands brother, that is how we know we can trust him. He will do whatever I say, and that is to be loyal to you. It is not as if things will change between us, we can still be us. It is just that I will be married that is all.” Rhaenys says.

Aegon looks at his sister and can see the longing and want he feels for her reflected in her eyes. He takes her hand then and says. “I do not want that though, for you to be married to another man? That kills me inside, you are my sister, my love, my queen, and you deserve everything the throne can give you, not some shitty little castle in the Marches. You deserve the splendour and grandeur of King’s Landing.”

His sister cups his cheek then, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “How do you think I feel? I do not want this marriage, but I know we must do it, in order to ensure that there is significant support elsewhere for you. Hurting the Baratheons where they feel as if they are most secure is the best course of action. Besides, if it were not me getting married it would have been you, and that, that pains me more than I can say.”

Aegon moves his hand to her cheek, brushing a stray lock of hair away. “I could never marry someone who was not you Rhae. You are my everything, I do not see why we cannot just simply marry one another as our ancestors did. We are not mad, we are not insane, and we are two people who love one another very much. That should not be a crime.”

“But it is, and the Lords of Westeros will never accept you as king if you are married to me. There is too much bad blood because of what our family did before because of the desire to keep their blood line pure. We cannot undo what was done in the past, but we can try and make it better. We must make smart marriages, and this is the only way to proceed.” His sister says.

Aegon sighs, and then moves his lips to his sister’s, he crushes his lips to her, their tongues meeting in a fervent embrace. Latching together and then moving apart, they kiss and kiss until their lips break apart and they come back for air. He looks at her then and speaks his voice husky. “I will never love anyone other than you Rhaenys. You are my queen, and I do not care what anyone else says.”


	23. Nobody's Fool

**9 th Month of 297 A.C. Goldengrove**

**Benjen Stark**

Their journey had been an interesting one, the warmth with which they had been received at the Twins and at Riverrun made Benjen think his brother had kept to his end of the deal and had ensured that Jon was treated as the prince he was. That made Benjen happy, and he knew that Lyanna would’ve been happy with that as well. That Ned had finally pulled his head out of the clouds was a good sign as well, for too long his brother had been happy to dwell on fear, now he was finally living a little and taking risks. As he thought of their stay at Harrenhal he wondered about how strong the order’s pull was, Old Lord Walter Whent still remained a firm loyalist, despite the loss of his brother and two of his sons due to Rhaegar’s madness, the old man had welcomed them with open arms and they had enjoyed the richness of Harrenhal overly so. That had been a good time, a time for Benjen to reminisce and continue his desire to see Lord Walter’s daughter Wynafrei, whose husband had died some years ago. From there they had moved to the Stone Sept, where they had met with the chiefs of the town, who had spoken of their grievances and the wounds they still suffered. It had been a good experience for Jon, Benjen thinks, getting to know the people he will one day rule, as per the order’s design. Getting to know them and ensure that they were not left alone for too long. Yes it had been very good.

From the Stoney Sept they had moved into the Reach, and the difference could not have been anymore clearer. The Reach was booming, due to Renly Baratheon’s presence in court, and King Robert’s blind eye. There were people walking around wearing clothes that would cost a fortune to any noble and yet they themselves were merely merchants. And then of course there was the poverty, it was astounding that there was so much of it in a place like the Reach. The people of the reach had looked at Benjen and his nephew as if they were some sort of oddities, and as a result of this, there was not much more that one could do than walk and ride and hope the stares died down. Benjen knew some of this commoners were not what they appeared and that they were working for either the spider or the other, the one whose name Benjen tried not to think about. They had arrived at Goldengrove some three days ago, and had been feasted and wined as always, Lord Mathis and his family were good people, true and loyal and Benjen felt comfortable leaving Jon in Ser Daeron Rowan’s company as he spoke with the lad’s father.

Mathis Rowan was a hardened man, the years had not removed the muscle of his body or his face, he had greying black hair, and sharp brown eyes. He was a true warrior lord, a man who had long chafed under the power of the Tyrells, Benjen counted him as one of his finest friends. They looked at one another for a moment before Benjen spoke. “I thank you for your hospitality these past few days my lord. It has been a most welcome break from travelling on horseback.”

The lord merely nods. “It was no hassle at all Master Benjen. It was an honour to hold the prince and yourself. Truly it was, and it is something I hope can be repeated once more. Once the Prince and his family have retaken their throne.”

Benjen voices his agreement. “I know my nephew shall not forget the service you offered him during our stay my lord. Now we have spent time riding through the Reach as we rode to get here, and I noticed many interesting things. The merchants are growing in power and influence under Mace are they not? I thought this was something you did not want?”

The lord is silent a moment before replying. “Whilst it is not ideal, it is perhaps better than having them plotting something or the other. And besides, most of their taxes come through to either myself or Paxter Redwyne. We only give Mace whatever little amount he wishes. His mother demands more, and we refuse. Mace knows his position is not as secure as his father’s or his grandfather’s was. The growing disparity in Highgarden and the rest of the Reach has opened a gulf, a gulf that I do not think anyone in that damned castle apart from Willas Tyrell knows how to close.”

Benjen nods and then asks. “And what of Willas Tyrell? I know little of him despite my travels. But from what I have gathered he is a smart man, with a far better grasp of politics and war than his oaf of a father.”

“That would be an accurate assessment of him my friend. Willas Tyrell is a mixture of Leyton Hightower and Olenna Tyrell. A fierce and powerful combination if ever there was one. There have been times when I have truly wondered if he actually knows about our plans and the order, and there are other times when I am convinced he is merely acting to present a façade.” Lord Mathis says.

“That does sound like his grandfather and grandmother.” Benjen agrees. “What has stopped you from having him offed then my lord? If it is true that he might well be smart enough to figure out the plans, then perhaps he is best removed from the scene before things heat up.”

The Lord of Goldengrove is silent a moment and then responds. “Because I know that he has a strained relationship with his father. Mace, the blundering fool that he is prefers his sons Garlan and Loras, both capable warriors but not anywhere near good enough to be Lord of Highgarden, than he does his firstborn. The man values the things that he lacks, and yet he does not recognise his son’s brilliance.”

Benjen looks at the Lord of Goldengrove and then asks. “Are you suggesting that we play on this little grievance that they two have with one another? Something that might work do you think? Or would Lord Willas’s ties to his family not be too strong for such a thing?”

Lord Mathis takes his time before replying. His words thought out when he does. “I think, that whilst it might be a risk, it is one we would be foolish not to take. I know Willas is frustrated with the lack of influence he has in Highgarden, and that he prefers spending time in Oldtown. Lord Leyton and his son Baelor are friends of mine. We can work to bring him in line if needs be.”

Benjen considers this for a moment before he replies. “Interesting, very interesting. If the son does not like the father, and the father does not like the son, we have a barrel waiting to be set alight. If you can exploit that tension then it does make our jobs so much easier. We have the support of Harrenhal and the Stoney Sept, as well as of the Darrys, but we must know what the situation in the Reach itself is before we can truly act.”

Mathis nods. “That is very true. As for the situation within the Reach itself, Lady Oakheart, myself and Lord Crane are all waiting to make our moves. We have been working together these past few years slowly removing the Tyrell hold over our lands and people. The Osgreys have been most useful, providing us with information on what Tywin Lannister has been doing, though the information has begun to grow slightly less useful following the Yronwood expulsion.”

“The Osgreys?” Benjen enquires. “Are they still as useful as they were during the years following the rebellion? I had thought that Lord Perwyn had decided against continuing ties with that family?”

Lord Mathis nods. “That is indeed true, but his son, it seems he wished to gain more clout and therefore he restored ties with his great grandmother’s family. It makes no difference, whatever information he learns, it comes through and proves to be correct. As for the rest of the Reach, the Florents are as always hungering for Highgarden, they it seems have begun pressing Lord Stannis for more recompense, and they are riding for court it seems, determined to present King Robert with their claims and lay their claim at his feet.”

Benjen snorts then. “Well they are feeding themselves false hope. For we all know that Robert Baratheon does not pay his second brother any heed. Stannis might as well be the man walking around with an arrow through his eye for all the attention and heed his brother pays him. The Florents will never get Highgarden so long as Robert sits the throne. Robert listens to his brother Renly, and even then sparingly. There is nothing in it for him.”

“Very much so, it would seem that the Florents have put all their hope on this one move. Either that or they are preparing for a war. Why that might be I do not know. Though the word floating through the Mander is that they have been summoned to court by Stannis Baratheon. For what purpose I do not know, but it seems that Stannis Baratheon might well have discovered something that has caused him to ask for his wife’s family to come to the capital.” Mathis says.

Benjen nods and then says. “That is all well and good, for it means Brightwater Keep is open for the taking, of course until such time as we know what must needs be done we have to keep this to ourselves.” Lord Mathis nods and Benjen continues. “What of the other houses in the Reach? The Redwynes and the Tarlys, where do they stand? Surely Lord Randyll cannot want to remain within Mace’s shadow for another lifetime?”

“Redwyne remains firmly within Mace’s camp. It seems the man does not wish to leave that which he knows best. He has attached himself to a sinking ship, and though I suspect he knows it, he seems not to have many concerns with it. After all his house is doomed, his sons are failures and are not up to standard. It would be far better for them all to go before casting the Arbor into more disrepair.” Mathis says, he takes a sip of wine and then continues. “As for Randyll. The man remains loyal to Mace as ever. He will not break his oath of fealty for anything. His heir Samwell has been sent off somewhere, gods alone knows where, but he has disappeared. Some whisper that he has been killed, but I highly doubt that, no doubt he is either in Brightwater Keep or in Oldtown. Now that he has a son to succeed him that is actually martial, and it increasingly looks as if Mace will petition the king to make Garlan his heir, the man will not be moved.”

Benjen sighs. “So he will willingly support a usurpation of the rightful heir of Highgarden, if the man replacing him is more military minded? That does not bode well for him then now does it?”

Mathis looks at him in surprise. “Is that order still going through? I had thought the grand master had changed his mind on that course?”

Benjen nods his face grim. “It would appear so. I can see the sense in it. The weakening of House Tarly will make Randyll reconsider where exactly his priorities lie. And without a skilled general in the field, one must believe Mace will be reluctant to go through with anything Renly Baratheon proposes.”

Lord Mathis is silent a moment, his face wrought in concentration before he replies. “I disagree, if anything this will make Lord Randyll more determined to fight for Mace. He will want to avenge his son, and find his son’s killer. This is a boy he has spent all his time with, and has moulded, he will not let this go down. Having Tarly that angry, is not going to be good for anyone.”

Benjen sighs, but before he can speak, there is a knock on the door and as Mathis calls for whoever it is to enter, they find themselves looking at a man with a snake mask on his face. The master of the order has come.


	24. Caron

**9 th Month of 297 A.C. Nightsong**

**Lord Bryce Caron**

He knew that what he was allowing to happen in his hall was treason. Treason to the fat man who sat the throne who had called his father and uncles to war and had never returned them. He knew that the fat king would rage and shout when and if he ever learned of these things. And yet as Bryce looked at the two Targaryens sitting opposite him, he truly felt reassured that it was worth it. King Aegon Targaryen was tall, muscular and every maiden’s fantasy, Bryce himself felt a faint stirring whenever he looked at the King, and he knew the king would make a very fine one, better than any they had had in a long, long time. Then there was Princess Rhaenys, Bryce’s intended. She was a fiery one, he could tell from merely looking at her. A very fiery lady, and it did not surprise him that their marriage was to be one of convenience not love. That suited him just fine.

The king spoke first as was his right. “We thank you for hosting us and our comrades today and for the days and nights to come my lord. Your hospitality is most appreciated.”

Bryce nods. “It is nothing Your Grace. One should not be surprised at such a thing. You and the princess are royalty, you deserve nothing but the best. It is my honour to host you here.”

Bryce sees the king’s eyes glint then. “Indeed, and yet what is going to happen here within the next few days will exact a high risk from you. It is not something to be looked at lightly. Should the usurper learn of this wedding, we shall all be in danger.”

Bryce nods. “And yet it is a risk I am willing to take. For you are the rightful king and there is nothing but exceptionally stupidity that could prevent me from ensuring that you are seen to your rightful throne.”

His intended speaks then her voice light. “Enough of such dark talk. Let us speak on the wedding itself. Tell me Lord Bryce what preparations have you made?”

Bryce can tell that his intended will be dictating the terms of their marriage from now on, and he finds that he does not have a problem with this, indeed he finds he quite likes it. “Well princess, I have ensured that the sept has been decorated with the appropriate floral arrangements as you requested. I have also ensured that the bedding is as comfortable for you as possible.”

Bryce sees the princess grasp the king’s hand and feels a mere flash of jealousy that she gets to hold the hand of the king. “That sounds wonderful Lord Bryce. I am pleased that you took such effort to try and make sure all was to my liking. And I am sure it will be, most definitely sure it will be.”

Bryce feels his heart soar at that something that only increases when the king nods and says. “Yes, I find myself thanking you once more for going to these great efforts to ensure the princess is most comfortable during the wedding ceremony.”

Bryce blushes slightly. “Oh, it was nothing Your Graces. Truly it was nothing. It was something that was my duty to do as your loyal subject. There was no need to consider any expense for this is an honour to myself and my house. You deserve only the best.”

He feels something akin to pride as he sees the looks of smugness that cross the King and princess’s faces, he knows then that he is closer to achieving his goal. The princess speaks then. “Pray tell us Lord Bryce, who will be attending the wedding from here? We all know that the lords of the Stormlands hold some fierce loyalty for Robert Baratheon. It is a risky thing we are doing by holding the marriage here, and so I would know who is attending.”

Bryce knows he could lie and tell them that none of the enemy shall be attending, but he also knows that the king and the princess are not people to be lied to. The presence of Ser Arthur Dayne and Prince Oberyn Martell are reminders of this. And so after much thought he says. “I know of your worries princess, and I can see why they might exist. The only lord who I do not know for certain where his loyalty lies is Lord Cafferen, and that is due to the fact that he once fought for the usurper during the rebellion, and yet has had no contact with the man since then.”

“And what of the others? What of Grandison and Fell? Men who also fought for Baratheon, and yet have professed their undying loyalty? What of your own kin in the Boillings and the Errols? These are all powerful houses, whom we must needs know to which side they stand. They are all coming to the wedding, I would not have the spies of the usurper ready to dance forthwith.” The king says.

Bryce nods. “Of course Your Grace. Those you have mentioned have all assured me that they would rather die than pass on information to Baratheon and the scum who sit on his council. They have grown detached from their oaths to Storm’s End since Baratheon left for the capital. Lannister influence will only go so far before those they are trying to influence either end up dead or deserting to the other side.”

“Good. Now tell us, what shall be the formal process for the ceremony? Is the septon a man who knows the right way to do things?” the princess asks.

It takes Bryce a moment to understand what the princess is asking him, and then he says. “Of course princess. They shall be reciting the words in the same way the conqueror and his wives were wed. The words of old shall be used as will the words of the Starry Father. Fear not, I would not besmirch our wedding with the filth the lions use.”

Bryce feels a sense of smug satisfaction seeing the relief that is visible across both the king and the princess’s faces at this. The princess speaks then. “Thank you for that Lord Bryce that is more of a relief than you could know. Now you mentioned some very interesting things beforehand. What did you mean when you said some of the Stormlords have begun reconsidering their oaths to the usurper?”

Bryce hides a smile, he knew that would get their attention. And so he takes his time before replying. “The lords of the Stormlands always felt tied to Storm’s End. For when the kings of the Stormlands sat in their citadel, they always tried their hardest to get to know their people. And that meant fighting and fucking, drinking and doing those things that men of the storm do. And yet as time has gone by, it seems that Robert Baratheon has gone from this path. He no longer does those things that the men of the storm do. He does what the lions and their gold tell him to do. And this has brought resentment, for lions and storms do not get along.”

“What of Renly Baratheon?” the king asks. “I would have thought that they might well gravitate toward him due to his resemblance and supposed penchant for being like his older brother.”

Bryce snorts. “I would not bet on that my king. Renly Baratheon is a man who does not know what it means to be a man of the storm. He is a man under the influence of those damned flowers. A man who does not know his roots. He will only flower, and flowers do wither within storms. The men of the Stormlands, have grown weary of his presence and constant cavorting with the Tyrells, especially that knight of flowers. The man is more filled with piss than a drunkard walking of a tavern.”

The king snorts then. “If this is true, then why have they not deserted him and gone through to that man Stannis? I have heard that he has more solid muscle within his bones than his brother.”

Bryce shakes his head. “It would not do to go to Stannis. The man is more stubborn and childish than either of his brothers. He knows how to nurse a grudge, and the fact that none of the Stormlords, myself included have ever shown any remote interest in doing fealty to him, will no doubt irk him. And this in itself could well lead to harsh reparations. We men of the storm, are not people who would wish to face such a thing. The lions already extort a large sum from us for the crowns debts. We cannot afford anything more.”

He sees the looks of anticipation on the king and princess’s faces. “And what would they do if there was someone who was offering them a chance to get back at those who would extort such a fierce price from them? Who was willing to restore their culture to them and ensure that they never again had to bend to the flowers?”

Bryce feels a sense of anticipation fill him. “Then I am certain that they would look to this man or woman with great anticipation. And they would be more than willing to aid them in their struggles. Of course proof would need to be made. After all there has been such a thing done before that has led to nowhere other than an empty room and the feeling of abandonment.”

The princess speaks then her voice soft. “You can be assured that my brother, King Aegon, shall not let this promise fall through. There is much and more that must needs be sorted out within the realm, and he is the man to do it. He is the man to ensure that the world is righted and that the corruption of the Lannisters is broken. The Stormlands will have its glory once more.”

Bryce feels something stir deep within him, the promise made to his father before he died. The chance to restore the Stormlands to its glory. All of its glory, it is a heady feeling and one that he is not sure he knows how to say no to. He looks at the king and the princess and feels a sense of hope so strong he wonders if he will explode from it. His voice is choked when he replies. “I believe then, that the Lords of the Stormlands would do whatever was asked of them. We have long waited for this day, and we shall ensure that it is seen to.”

The princess nods then. “That is good, very good. And in time we shall see to it that you are all well rewarded. For we know the benefits of ensuring our lords are happy. Unlike the usurper and his lions, we know the value of struggle. Never again will the Stormlords be subjected to the lion and their coin.”

Bryce feels something heady engulf him then and he stands but before he can speak there is a knock on the door. “What?” he calls out angrily.

“I am sorry my lord, but there are two men here asking to speak to the King and the Princess.” His steward says.

“Well tell them they are busy right now.” Bryce says looking at the king and princess, both of whom look wary.

Voices are heard outside the door, and then the steward says. “I am sorry my lord but they are both being insistent.”

Bryce looks at the king then helplessly, and the king merely nods. “Show them in then.”

The door opens and in walks two men who look like savages dressed in wolf pelts, their eyes a stormy grey. One looks like what Bryce has been told Eddard Stark looks like. There is a moment’s silence as this young man stares at the king and the princess, and then Bryce is stunned when he hears the king whisper. “Brother.”


	25. Best I Can Do

**9 th Month of 297 A.C. Nightsong**

**Jon Targaryen**

The journey to Nightsong had been long and tiring, from Goldengrove they had travelled on dirt roads and in the cover of darkness, Uncle Benjen unwilling to allow any chance that they might be caught. Jon had understood the reasoning behind what his uncle was doing, and yet that could not stop the frustration he felt, he was a prince of the blood, not some damned vagabond. And more often than not his thoughts would stray to Rhonda, the daughter of Mathis Rowan, and how she had been there waiting for him when he had retired for the night, and how she had tasted on his lips and when he had entered her. Gods it had felt so good. And he hungered for her again, by the gods did he hunger for her. That was something new to him, the fire inside him, his dragon was waking it seemed, but gods knew he wanted more.

They had arrived at Nightsong just as the sun was setting, and it seemed that there was much and more happening at the old fortress. His uncle had told him that Princess Rhaenys, his sister was getting married. The thought surprised him, but it made sense, they needed allies, and Caron was a strong lord. But right now, as he looked at the people gathered in Lord Bryce Caron’s solar his heart was hammering, a young man and young woman were looking at him, and he knew, he just knew that they were his brother and sister. A fact that was confirmed when he heard the young man, whose hair was silver and who was more muscular then someone Jon had ever seen before whispers. “Brother.”

Jon feels his chest seize at the word, but before he can say anything, Lord Caron speaks. “Do you know these two men Your Graces?”

“Yes. Lord Bryce we do. These two men are our honoured guests.” The silver haired man says. “Benjen Stark, the travelling wolf, the master of the order, and our brother, Prince Jon Targaryen.”

Hearing his name spoken sends a shiver down his spine. “Prince Jon Targaryen? I did not know Your Graces had a brother?” the man who Jon knows to be Lord Caron asks.

“Neither did we until quite recently. Prince Jon is the son of our father Prince Rhaegar, and his second wife Lady Lyanna Stark. He is a prince of the blood, and we have long wished to see him.” The silver haired man says, Jon knows now, that this man is his brother King Aegon.

Lord Carons moves toward him then, and Jon tenses, and yet Lord Caron merely gets to one knee and says. “My prince, it is an honour to meet you. My home and hearth is yours for as long as you wish.” With that the man stands and then nods his head to uncle Benjen before turning back to the king and Jon’s sister, the princess Rhaenys who is looking at Jon with something that makes his skin heat. “I shall leave you to your reunion my king and princess.”

The man bows quickly before turning and leaving the room, leaving Jon, his uncle Benjen and the King and Princess Rhaenys alone in the room. There is silence for a moment, and then the king, his brother Aegon speaks. “You have done well Benjen. Thank you for bringing our brother home to us. We shall speak with you when the time is right. You may leave.”

“Of course Your Grace.” Uncle Benjen says, bowing before turning and leaving.

There is more silence after this, and then the king, his elder brother speaks. “Sit brother, I know that you know who we are, but it must be a shock to finally be here with us. Truth be told, I am still rather shocked that you are here myself.”

Jon takes a seat and looks at his brother, noticing the strong build of the king, and the way his hands look as if they are solid weapons, he feels a flush run down him, he turns to look at his sister, Princess Rhaenys who is looking at him with a look he has seen only once before, in Rhonda. He blushes slightly and then says. “I am happy to be here with you Your Graces. I have long waited to meet you, since the day I found out the truth.”

“Please, we are family, you do not need to use titles around us.” The king says. “We are Aegon and Rhaenys, we are your brother and sister.”

Jon nods his head. “Of course… brother.” He looks up and smiles to see his brother smiling.

His sister speaks then. “So how was your journey brother? We know that you spent some time travelling through the Riverlands, and even spent some time in Riverrun. Were the Tullys kind to you?”

There is a heat in her words, that makes Jon feel warm, no one has ever truly spoken with such protection toward him before. “It was good. The Rivermen are good people, and the Tullys were kind, though it seemed somewhat forced. I cannot blame them though, for too long has the lie stood.”

His sister he sees nod her head in agreement. “Indeed, Lord Stark was somewhat of a fool to keep the truth so deliberately hidden from you, for all these years. It is time that we all were reunited and together we can bring about what is rightfully ours. We can claim the throne once more.”

Jon feels something rise inside him at his sister’s words, he thinks it is hope. “I learned a fair few things during my travels. It seems there are many lords who are unhappy with the Baratheons that was surprising to me, as many of them fought for the usurper during his rebellion.” He is surprised at the ease with which he can communicate with his siblings, having just met them for the first time, indeed it feels as if this is a reunion after a period of years, not the first meeting, and on reflection he supposes that, that is true.

“Baratheon is a fool who walks a line between gluttony and corruption. The lords and ladies you met have been working alongside our agents for many years brother. And now that you are here, we can finally begin putting all the plans into motion.” His brother says.

Jon looks at his brother then and asks, nerves filtering in. “What do you mean brother? Do you have a plan?”

His brother smiles reassuringly. “You have no need to fear brother, I will not keep you in the dark. Not like Stark did, you are my brother, my strong right hand, I know you will be able to do as we need to do to take the throne. The plan is coming into place now, with you finally here, we can begin.”

Jon nods and then says. “I know my uncle will be willing to come to arms should the need arise. Though I am still not sure how secure he will be if the need comes that we fight Robert Baratheon. I think there is still some lingering affection there for that brute.”

His siblings look at him a moment and then it is Rhaenys who says. “That should not be too much of an issue, for when the time comes, I do not think Robert Baratheon will be in a position to do much fighting.”

Jon looks at his sister, once again surprised by how easy it is to talk with her and his brother, despite only meeting them for the first time today. His voice is soft when he asks. “What do you mean by that sister?”

His sister looks at him, her gaze heated, and he suspects he knows what will come at the end of this meeting, and though they have only just met, there is a spark there, a spark he finds he likes. “Robert Baratheon has not kept himself in the best of shape, I am sure your uncle Benjen told you this brother, he is fat and a drunk, and the lions pull his purse strings. He will die before the year is out, or something will happen to cripple him, and that is when we strike.”

Jon absorbs this information and just as he goes to ask another question, his brother speaks. “Enough of this politicking. We have just gotten you back brother, there is more than enough time for us to talk politics. Plenty of time. For now, let us drink and celebrate the fact that you are come back to us.” His brother fills a cup with wine and hands it to him, Jon takes a sip and then looks at his brother again. “Now tell us, what happened during your travels?”

Jon takes another sip of wine and says. “I met a lot of people, lords great and small. I also met Ser Raymun Darry, the man very nearly wanted to kiss my arse I think, he still has the tapestries of our family hanging on his walls, and the servants there speak of nothing but when Ser Jonothor served in the Kingsguard. It was a nice visit, and then there was Harrenhal, a place filled with many memories, and yet old Lord Walter is a man who knows where to turn and he fights through illness determined to see us returned. And then there was Goldengrove.”

He pauses then when he thinks on Goldengrove, Rhonda’s brown hair and her doe eyes fill his mind, and the taste of her lips fills him then, the sound she had made as he had entered her, as she had cried out in ecstasy, gods, he feels himself begin to grow weak at the knees of the thought.  “It seems something good happened to you at Goldengrove brother.” He hears his elder brother jest.

Jon blinks slightly and then says. “Most definitely brother, there was a girl.” He trails off for a moment and then says. “Her name was Rhonda, she is Lord Mathis’ daughter. She was very beautiful.”

He sees his brother’s eyes shoot up then. “Oh she was, was she?” there is a pause and then. “I think we might need to see this girl for ourselves Rhae, do you not think?”

Jon looks at their sister, who it seems has stood up during the time he was speaking, and has begun moving toward him. Her voice is a seductive whisper when she asks. “Was she more beautiful than me brother?”

She looks at him through her lashes, and Jon feels his mouth go dry, something is stirring inside him. He looks at his sister and whispers. “No, I do not think it is possible for anyone to be more beautiful than you sister.”

His sister gives a giggle. “Why thank you brother, but I do think Aegon would take offence at that would you not brother?”

Jon feels his eyes begin to go hazy as he looks at his brother who has come to stand beside him, looking kingly. “Oh I think so. But tell me brother, who is more beautiful, me or Rhaenys?”

Jon feels his knees go weak then, his voice barely above a whisper. “That is a cruel question to ask me brother. For you are both beautiful to me.”

“Good. For we are dragons, and we hunt together.” He hears his brother say.

The next thing he knows his sister is kissing him, and he is kissing her back, and then she pulls away and begins moving down his body, pulling off his clothes, dusty as they are from travel, his brother takes Rhaenys place, and gods, this is something different to what he has known before. Something is stirring inside him, his manhood begins to grow hard as he feels his sister’s hands on it, and his brother on his lips. Gods…coherent thought leaves him as he feels Rhaenys put her mouth on his manhood.


	26. Siblings In War

**10 th Month of 297 A.C. Nightsong**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

They were finally all together, the three of them, as it should be. The three children of Rhaegar Targaryen together at last. Ever since he had learned of his brother’s existence, Aegon had wanted him here, with him and Rhaenys where he belonged, not skulking somewhere in the north. His brother was somewhat different to how Aegon expected. His brother was confident and there was a sense of self that Aegon had not been expecting considering the reports that they had gotten on him. It was good and a change, for it had made his job so much easier. Jon had fallen into the routine of being a prince as if he had been born into it, he had, Aegon supposed. And they had begun forming a partnership that was not going to be rivalled by anyone or anything. It was good to have a brother, and Aegon knew now the hole that he had been feeling, had been filled.

Of course there were some things that Jon needed to be told, and that included the game that had been played in Dorne. As Aegon looked at his brother, who was lounging on a chair, he took a sip of water and then says. “So tell me Jon, what did you hear of Dorne when you were on your travels?”

Jon is silent a moment before he replies. “I heard about the attempt on Rhaenys life, and I heard rumours of the feud going on between the Martells and the Yronwoods.”

Aegon looks at Rhaenys a moment and then looks at their brother. “The feud between the Martells and the Yronwoods has been going on for many years. Long before any of us were even born, that is of little consequence now. There are no more Yronwoods to pose a serious threat to us. But the attempt on Rhaenys life is important and it is time we told you the truth behind that.” Aegon takes a deep breath and looks to his sister then.

Rhaenys takes up the tale then squeezing his hand. “The Yronwoods were plotting against us, against our family. They were working with whom we do not know, but we believe it was Tywin Lannister. They were working to capture me and take me to the man to be used as bait.”

“Why would they try and do that? I thought the Lannisters wanted all Targaryens dead, after all we are all a threat to their damned hold on the throne.” Jon asks.

“That is true, and yet if they were to have a female Targaryen in their possession, it would go a long way to soothing some of the hurts that remain from the rebellion. You travelled through the Riverlands and the Reach, you know there are those who do not have the fight for the Lannisters anymore.” Rhaenys replies.

Aegon looks at his brother and sees a deep look of concern on his face. “Is that what the attack was about? I heard about something happening in the plains when I was in the Riverlands. Something about a group of Yronwood men going missing and turning up dead. Their skulls being sent to the Rock or to King’s Landing. Is that why you were saying they won’t be a threat anymore?”

Aegon nods. “Aye, that is why. The Yronwood men were all killed during their failed attempt to get Rhaenys. Their skulls were dipped in tar and were mounted along the boneway. There is nothing more for them to do. Though there are still those within Dorne who might seek to go against us.”

His brother looks shocked at this.  “Who in their right mind would want to go against you in Dorne, especially after what happened to the Yronwoods? Surely none would be stupid enough to try the Dragon’s wrath?”

Aegon runs a hand through his hair and says. “There are those unhappy with this marriage between Rhaenys and Bryce Caron. They seek to use their grievances as a legitimate reason to rebel against the Martells. They think that by doing this they are doing themselves a favour, but really they are not. I do not exactly who all these people are, but there are many of them within the lesser and greater lords.”

“Why do you not march down and make a play on them right now then? Rhaenys is to be married soon enough, once you have the strength and allegiance of the Marcher Lords, going down to Dorne and rooting these traitors out by their stem would ensure none ever dare raise an arm against you.” Jon says.

“It is not that simple brother,” Aegon says. “We do not who exactly are these people who might stand against us. There are only whispers, and I will not act in such a manner when there are only whispers with which to base my claim. Our grandfather did something similar and look how that ended. No, if this is to happen, we shall do it with all the information necessary.”

His brother looks as if he is going to protest, but a calming hand from Rhaenys stops him from doing so. Their sister speaks then. “You travelled through the Riverlands Jon, tell us, what sort of mood did you get from the Lords you stayed with? Were they willing to fight, or were they more content to scheme?”

They both look at their brother then, and Jon is silent a moment before he responds. “I know that there are some who are aching for a fight. They are desperate to get their revenge on those who did wrong by them. Most want to see the usurper removed and the Lannisters gone. That is something that is the most pressing feeling amongst many. As for the Freys, well I do believe Lord Walder only wants what he wants and nothing more. If it is worth his while to support us he will.”

Aegon considers this a moment and then says. “We know that most if not all the Stormlords feel something akin to disgust for their lord Paramount, and that the Tyrell influence here is beginning to make many chafe. That might be something we could use.”

His brother speaks then. “Do you truly believe the Stormlords would rather fight for us, than for their Baratheon overlords? When King Aegon’s son reneged on his betrothal to Lyonel Baratheon’s daughter, they all rebelled alongside their liege lord. And yes Renly Baratheon might not be his great grandfather, but he is still a Baratheon, that is something at least, for those who remember their oaths.”

Aegon looks at his brother a long moment before saying. “The mere presence of men such as Cafferen, Grandison, Fell, Buckler and Dondarrion here for this wedding would contradict that statement brother. This is not Winterfell, here allegiances are bought and won with a show of strength, not mere fear. They will fight for a man they believe will represent their interests, and Baratheon does not.”

“Who would then brother?” Jon asks. “They will fight for you of course, because Rhaenys is married to one of them, but will you name that idiot Caron as your Lord Paramount or someone else?”

Aegon is silent a moment and then he says. “You will be my new Lord Paramount. As Prince of Summerhall, you shall become the man to lead the lords of the Stormlords through this battle and the war to come. The men here at this wedding know you, and most think favourably of you. Prove yourself to them and you will have their loyalty.”

His brother looks completely surprised at this. “How am I supposed to do that? The conditions for war are not yet here, or apparent to me at least. They will laugh or protest when you suggest this.”

Aegon looks at his brother. “They have already accepted this decision brother. When the time is right you shall lead a raid on some Baratheon strongholds here and prove yourself to them. That will be the first act of our war.”

His brother and sister look at him shocked then. Rhaenys asks. “What do you know? What are you not telling us brother? Doing this is a bold move, a very bold move.”

Aegon looks at them both and says. “Word came this morning, it appears that there is something going on in the capital. Lannister men and Baratheon men as well as Arryn men are arguing over something that happened to the Kingslayer and his retinue. Things are beginning to grow more heated, and we know that Baratheon and Arryn have been looking into something. This attack must be carried out soon, for the drums of war are sounding.”

There is a silence for a moment then, and then his brother asks. “And you truly believe that they will fight for me? That they will willingly fight under me? The product of their king’s humiliation?”

Anger flows through Aegon at this and he turns to his brother and says. “I am their king, and you are not my humiliation, you are my brother, my strong right hand. And all three of us shall win back that which was taken from us.”

His brother looks at him a moment and then asks. “How can you be so sure of this? What if the Reach gets involved? We all know how closely connected the Tyrells are to Renly, if we are to attack him, then we shall be inviting trouble on ourselves.”

Aegon looks at his brother and smiles. “Come now brother, we both know that the Tyrells do not have the support of all their lords. Rowan himself told your uncle, that there are those who are more than willing to strip themselves of their allegiance to Tyrell if it means getting more freedom. Should Tyrell make a move, we know that this will end in tragedy for them all.”

There is a moment silence, and then Rhaenys asks. “And what of the north Jon? Will your uncle stand with us? We all know his feelings for the usurper, will he fight for us regardless, of what he knows and what has happened?”

Aegon stares intently at their brother then, and Jon shifts slightly in his seat before replying. “I believe so. He gave me his word he would the right thing by me when the time came. And I know he has felt guilt over all that has come from the lie he told. He wants to make amends, and if it means fighting for us I believe he would do so.”

Aegon nods satisfied with this, but Rhaenys asks. “Are you certain of this? Eddard Stark is a man known for his honour. Would he rather honour his oath to you, or the oath he made to his friend and king?”

Aegon looks at Rhaenys, somewhat angry with her question, though he sees the sense in it. Their brother hesitates for a moment before saying. “I think he will stand with us. My uncle cares for nothing more than he does his family. That is what is sacred to him, and should we need his help, he will willingly give it.”

“You think or you know?” Rhaenys asks fiercely. “We must know for certain where the north stands.”

A long silence follows this, and then Jon replies. “I know sister. Lord Stark and the whole of the north will stand by us when the time comes.”

Aegon breathes a sigh of relief then. “Good. We have assured ourselves of that. Now tell me Jon, what do you make of the men who will one day fight for you?”

His brother is silent a moment and then says. “I believe they are good men, fighters every one of them. Though Caron makes me nervous, there is something there that I cannot put my finger on. Something about him makes my skin crawl.”

Aegon looks at Rhaenys then, and before he can reply, there is a knock on the door, and when Aegon calls for whoever it is to come in, they find Ser Arthur stood there in the doorway, with Lord Caron. The man bows low before standing and saying. “Word has come from Storm’s End, Renly Baratheon has summoned his lords to attend him.”


	27. Marriage

**11 th Month of 297 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

He had to pinch himself to truly believe that this day was actually happening. His firstborn son Robb was getting married today. This was something he had thought of a lot about as of late, but had never truly processed until it had come to be. Ned had been speaking to Lord Royce about this marriage for a few moons before this day, speaking about old alliances and pacts that had been made in days of old. Royce knew about Jon, and it seemed was willing to go forward with this plan Ned had, and yet that was what surprised him. Yohn’s loyalty to Jon Arryn had never truly been in question, but his dedication to Robert had, and now it seemed that the time to break had come. Yohn’s daughter Ysilla was a pretty girl, and she was kind and courteous, but there was also some of the fire of her father about her. Ned still did not know what to truly make of her, or her brothers, but he knew her father was dedicated to this cause whether or not he knew the full implications of it or not.

Ned felt Cat pinch him slightly and he turns to look at her, his wife looks beautiful, her hair done up in a pretty bow, and Ned feels like the luckiest man here, though to look at his son, he wonders if perhaps this marriage is occurring too soon. Robb is only a boy of four and ten namedays, but war is coming and soon enough they will all have to play their part. His son stands there tall and straight, holding himself with pride, and Ned feels pride as well, for his son, and for the man he is becoming. Howland Reed, his old friend has come forth from his swamp dwelling to officiate at the ceremony, and now as the crowd falls silent, the bride and her father come. Lady Ysilla seems to glow as she walks down toward the heart tree, and Ned wonders if she is excited to be married, or if she and Robb have managed to find some friendship, that which he and Catelyn did not have in the early days of their marriage, he hopes they have.

As the customary questions are asked and answered, Ned looks around the gathered assembly, the lords of the north have gathered in force today, and Ned knows that some like Karstark are upset at his decision to marry his heir to someone out of the north, whilst others such as Bolton sense the opportunity for other pickings that this gives them. His lords have been compliant in all his requests since the word went out about Jon, and for that he is grateful to them, and yet he is also somewhat nervous as well. His father always used to say that if the lords were not protesting about something or the other, then they were possibly scheming, but then considering the time his own father grew up in, that is not a complete surprise. Still, as he looks at his lords and then moves to the men who came with Yohn, he wonders, there is most definitely something at play here. What it is he does not know, but something is definitely afoot, it merely frustrates him that he does not quite know what it is.

Ned moves his thoughts to his children, Sansa standing tall and proud beside him and her mother, she is growing into a true lady, and there is a feeling inside him that sooner or later he will have to arrange a marriage for her, something he does not look forward to doing. Then there is Arya, his little girl who so reminds him of Lyanna it terrifies him. Brandon, the little climber, constantly asking questions and then little Rickon no more than a babe. The things he is planning will disrupt their lives so much, that he wonders if it is indeed worth doing so. There is much and more that has kept him up at night as of late, but this is the biggest thing, is a promise to his nephew worth more than the safety of his children?

The sound of clapping and cheering drags his thoughts away from a dark future and into the bright present. He smiles as he sees his son and Lady Ysilla kissing, and as they walk past them and lead the way to the great hall for the feast, Ned nods his thanks to his old friend. Howland, who had remained away not on Ned’s insistence but in honour of Lyanna’s memory, just another long ghost in the trail of ghosts that his sister left behind when she died. The thought is a bitter one, but it quickly disappears, at the sight of his wife and how she smiles at him. Smiling at her he leads her to the great hall, they walk in silence, their actions speaking louder than their words.

The great hall is awash with noise and chatter when Ned enters, seeing Cat seated to his left, he remains standing for a moment, and when the hall gradually quietens he speaks. “My lords and ladies. I thank you all for coming. We are here to witness the joining of two old and proud families. I wish the newlyweds all the happiness in the world. To Robb and Ysilla.” He raises his cup and drinks, as others do the same.

He sits down and then Yohn stands up and says. “I would like to add to Lord Stark’s toast. We are two houses Royce and Stark, tied through bonds of marriage many generations ago. The north and Runestone are old allies, and it is this that is celebrated with this marriage. Let us continue to observe the traditions of friendship that our forebearers started.” Cheers go up at this and as the man sits down he winks at Ned, and Ned smiles at his old friend, as people begin digging into their food, his old friend turns to him and says. “It is good we have finally got this done Ned, I was beginning to fear it would never happen.”

Ned nods. “It is indeed. But there was never any doubt in my mind that this marriage would happen Yohn. It is what is needed to ensure our plans go as we wish them to.”

His friend grunts. “One would have thought you had had a change of heart by the way you were remaining silent beforehand Ned. What happened?”

“I had to think about where my priorities lay Yohn. My family and people will be affected by this decision, and there will be those who question the genuineness of what we are doing. Robert is not dead, nor is Jon, there will be those who wonder what has caused this change.” Ned replies.

His friend snorts. “Come now Ned, we both know what is going on in the south. The court is becoming more and more corrupt, and your friend the king, is not the most strong willed of people. We both know the lions rule the court and the kingdom. It is time for us to remove them from power and show the world that we are not to be forgotten.”

Ned turns and looks at his friend then. “Do you truly believe shedding the lives of so many innocent of people for a boy who we have never met before is truly worth the cost? Or are you doing this for some other reason Yohn?”

“Whether the boy is who he claims to be or not, I do not care. All I know is that the lions and the Baratheons have cost my people dearly. I want revenge for the wrongs that have been done to me and mine, and these dragons are worth it. I will not see my people forgotten because of Robert Baratheon’s negligence.” Yohn says firmly.

Ned considers this for a long moment, mulling over the reports that had come from court, and from Benjen as well, and slowly but surely his own uncertainty begins to disappear. “Very well then. Now tell me Yohn, what is the state of affairs in the Vale? Are the lords ready and willing to fight for those who once they fought against?”

The Lord of Runestone is silent a long moment, and then he replies. “I believe they are. Many are growing tired of Jon’s continued absence from the Vale and his continued insistence that Robert can be brought in. They want reform and they want the power of the Lannisters curbed, and they know the dragons are the only ones who can truly achieve this.”

“And what of Baelish?” Ned asks.

Royce takes a deep sip of wine before replying. “What of him?”

“What moves have you and your allies taken to nullify the threat he poses? We both know that he has spies almost everywhere.” Ned responds. “Have you managed to find all of them within the Vale?”

The lord of Runestone is silent as he ponders the question, and Ned feels his nerves begin to come forth once more, if Baelish has not been nullified then the threats that man-made would come true. And that is something he cannot allow. Eventually the man speaks. “Those spread out across the kingdom, yes they have either been turned or have been killed. Those within Gulltown have been harder to get to. Baelish is well protected by the Graftons, and as such they are more than willing to protect the man’s own faults, if it costs them a small price of prestige.”

“Does Jon know of the man’s mechanisations?” Ned asks, if there was one man who could fully end Baelish it was Ned’s former foster father.

Royce shakes his head. “Jon is too busy trying to keep his family and the kingdoms at peace. He has not time for that which is right under his nose. We both know this Ned. It would be foolish to expect the man to try anything else. His wife, your goodsister, is someone who has slowly begun to cling to their son like he is an anchor in the narrow sea. Gods alone know what she might do.”

Ned sighs then. “Lysa, she is a troubled woman. Catelyn has always said that her sister was troubled by some event in her past, and she never truly recovered from it. What it was, Catelyn did not know, but it did something to Lysa, and it left her as she is now.”

Ned feels his wife squeeze his leg then in warning, and he knows that he needs to tread carefully, but of course Yohn merely says. “Your lady wife is a most astute of people my lord, I am not surprised she has given you such astute advice over the years.”

“You are too kind my lord, I merely do my duty.” Catelyn says.

Yohn snorts. “Of course my lady.” The man pauses and then turns to Ned once more. “I wished to ensure you are okay with my son Waymar remaining here in Winterfell for a time once we leave. For I believe he can make a name for himself here amongst your storied company Ned.”

Ned nods. “I would be honoured to have your son stay here for some time Yohn, truly it would be a pleasure.”

His friend smiles then, but before he can respond, the door opens and Ned sees someone hurrying toward the dais, Maester Luwin goes down to take whatever it is from the boy before walking back up onto the dais. “A letter for you my lord,” the man says. “From King’s Landing.”

Ned takes the letter curious, as he breaks the scroll he reads through it and feels something akin to shock and horror pass through him. Grief is there briefly, before being replaced by a sense of resignation. He turns to look at his wife and then at Yohn, his voice is soft when he says. “Robert is dead.”


	28. Execution

****

**11 th Month of 297 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Jon Arryn**

It seemed his life was destined to end, he had always thought about it, had always suspected that it would come to this. Since the day his aunt had told him his future, and the various things had come to pass, he had stopped doubting her power, and now, well now it was time for him to say one last goodbye. Ever since he had put Robert on the throne, Jon had wondered if perhaps they had made a mistake, his foster son had deteriorated so quickly Jon had been alarmed. The Lannisters were growing stronger and stronger, and Jon did not know how to stop their advance. He was too old, too old and too tired for this dance, but when Lord Stannis had come to him with the direst of news, he had found a new energy. It was as if the gods themselves had given him the strength to live one last time, before they claimed him for their own. There was no doubt in his mind that the Queen’s children were not Robert’s, they were bastards, born of incest something that shocked him and horrified him, but in a way he suspected that he had always known. Stannis had remained as well, they were determined to expose the queen, and yet now Jon knew they would face death.

Their defiance had been ill timed he supposed, but he was old, far too old to care now. They were not in the black cells at least, there had been too much confusion following Robert’s death and it seemed the Queen was determined to see them bend the knee to her bastard son. Jon looked at the man sat opposite him, Stannis Baratheon looked haggard, and broken, never certain of where he stood at court, the Lord of Dragonstone had adopted a harsh demeanour, but there was something lurking underneath the surface that much Jon knew. Clearing his throat, he speaks. “You know what we must do today Stannis?”

The man nods. “Of course. I will not allow that whore to put her bastard on the throne that is rightfully mine.”

“We may not live through the coming months, you have made sufficient preparations for your wife and daughter?” Jon asks.

The lord of Dragonstone looks pained at this and then he says. “My castellan knows what to do should I fall before we have time to return to Dragonstone. The Red Priestess is there as well, though I do not trust that she will have a positive influence on my family.”

Jon looks at the man for a moment. “Why did you allow her to remain on your island if you did not think she would be good for your family my lord?”

The Lord of Dragonstone does not look at him when he says. “Because Selyse asked me to, and I did not have the heart to turn her down. There has been much and more wrong with our marriage since the day my brother despoiled our marriage bed, but I am not so cold as to deny her anything that might make her happy.”

Jon is surprised by this, the more he gets to know the Lord of Dragonstone, the more he sees of him. “That is all fair now, but should we fall today, then your daughter will be the rightful heir, there is not much that would do her service, and having the red priestess there would harm her claim more.”

The man grits his teeth. “Such a thing should have no bearing on it. Shireen is the rightful Queen should I die, that is the law. Those who reject that are mere fools, blinded by their own greed.”

Jon sighs, the man still holds stubbornly to those tenets that would do him disservice as a king. “The Lannisters hold the popular perception within their hand. If they want it, they can make yourself and your daughter seem like heretics. You know that the faith has been acting up since Robert passed the law of ordinances. Gods alone know what they will do should the Queen and her allies do something such as this.”

The man looks at him and then grits out. “Such things should make not a difference. We both know the nobles do not hold to the Faith. I am not a fool to believe in some seven headed idiot, preaching about this, or the other. The High Septon is a fool who believes in something that has been disproved time and time again. I will not allow such a thing to stop me. Nor will my supporters, and any honest man.”

Jon considers this a moment. “Lord Stark would support you should the raven be sent. Ned would not allow such a thing as his friend and king’s murder to go unquestioned. The call for justice would be strong.”

Stannis snorts. “You think that fool would support me? He would not question Joffrey or the Queen should they demand he come south and fight. He is a dog who does merely as he is told.”

Jon feels something akin to annoyance flare inside of him then, but he pushes it down. “Ned would do what is right. I have had my own allies ride northward to tell him of what has happened here. The Queen wants to keep all information quiet until we have sworn our oaths of allegiance. We of course will not be doing that, but we must have allies ready to take up arms for us.”

“It should not even be for them to be ready. They should do their duty and that should be the end of it. I am their rightful king now that Robert is dead, there is nothing else to it. To claim otherwise, one would have to be a fool.” The man replies.

Jon sighs once more. “It is not that simple Stannis. Surely you realise that? There are things that must needs be done to ensure the lords fight for you, otherwise they will either remain neutral or fight for Lannister gold.” He pauses a moment and then says. “Then there is Lord Renly to consider.”

“Renly?” the Lord of Dragonstone says. “Pah, I doubt that fool knows what is happening here. He is too busy doing things with the roses. Fleeing like a coward.”

Before Jon can answer the door opens and they are brought from their room to the throne room. There sat on the throne is Joffrey Waters, the bastard born of incest, Jon feels something akin to sickness run through him. Both he and the Lord of Dragonstone are brought to a stop a fair distance from the foot of the throne. The Kingsguard stand guard, imposing and defiant, Ser Barristan Selmy looks tired and afraid, as he rightfully should. The hall goes quiet as the king speaks. “You have been brought here to swear fealty to me, to refuse to do so means death. Do you hereby claim loyalty to me?”

Silence follows the bastard’s question, both Jon and the Lord of Dragonstone remain silent. Neither saying anything, neither wanting to say anything. Jon learned long ago the virtue of being silent, for then you can force your enemies into making mistakes, and admitting things out of frustration. The silence continues to stretch, and Jon can sense the tension building, he keeps his head lowered. Eventually he hears a voice, and looks up to see the Queen Dowager speaking. “Your king has asked you a question. It is the height of dishonour to ignore him.”

Jon looks at the woman, and feels a deep seated anger develop within him, this woman is the reason Robert is dead, she is the reason this kingdom will go to war. His response is soft. “I am sorry, I did not hear the question. Could you repeat it please?”

A string of murmuring fills the throne room then, and Jon hides a smile. The Queen Dowager and the bastard look deeply angered. “You would do well to mind your tongue Lord Arryn. You are no longer Hand of the King, nor do you hold much relevance anymore.” The Queen Dowager replies.

“Really?” Jon asks. “I thought seeing as I am still a Lord Paramount and Lord of the Eyrie, I hold some amount of relevance Your Grace? Unless something has happened that I am not aware of?”

There is even more murmuring at this and the Queen Dowager’s face is pinched with anger. “Watch yourself my lord. You are speaking to the Queen.” The woman snarls.

“The Queen? I thought King Robert was dead? Unless you are hiding him somewhere?” Jon asks.

Even more murmuring at this, and Jon feels more alive than he has done in a long time. The woman’s face is like pure thunder then, but before she can speak her bastard speaks. “Enough of this foolery. You will bend the knee, or I shall remove your heads and send them to your kingdoms and people.”

Jon looks at the bastard and then replies. “Why should I bend to you? You are nothing but a child, what right do you have over me?”

A stunned silence fills the throne room then, and Jon can feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him. Most are stunned, others he knows will be revelling in this. The bastard is fuming. “I am your king!” he screams. “I command all right over you, I can command you to piss and shit and fuck. I am your king and you will do as I say!”

Jon looks at the boy and merely says. “You are no king of mine. All I see is a little boy who has come out from behind his mother’s skirts and is trying to be a man, but does not know how to be a man, because he was never taught how to act. Your father never cared for you, and your mother,” Jon pauses then looking at the queen. “Well your mother is a monster who will destroy everything. You are no king. You are nothing.”

“You speak out of turn Lord Arryn. Have you left your decency within the cell? Or did your wife take it with her?” The Queen snarls.

Jon feels nothing at the woman’s casual mention of his wife. His wife and he have not shared a bed in a long time. It is better that way, he does not have to deal with her madness. He only wishes he could have taken his son away from her, he does not want the fate of his house left with the woman and the son who barely a boy. He stares at the Lannister woman and then says. “My decency remains intact Your Grace. But I do believe that yours left a long time ago. Perhaps you never had any, and that is why that monster sits on the throne.”

A shocked gasp carries around the court, and Jon knows that he is walking the fine line here, he knows his time is running out, but he finds he does not care. For the first time in what feels a lifetime, he is free to say as he wants, and think what he wants. “You dare speak to me like that? You, who could not venture far from anywhere without something falling you?” the queen snarls.

Jon snorts. “I dare because you are a traitorous whore, who has killed her own husband to seat her bastard on the throne.”

Silence fills the room then, and the Lannister woman looks stunned. The bastard speaks then. “Lies! You speak filthy lies, just as I knew you would old man!”

Finally Lord Stannis speaks, his tone firm. “These are no lies! They are the truth. Joffrey Waters and his siblings are not my brother’s children. They are bastards born of incest, between the Queen Dowager and her brother the Kingslayer.”

Shock fills the room, and then Jon hears the bastard screaming for their heads, as the room begins to boil with energy and shouts and jeers, Jon merely laughs, and looking at the Queen Dowager merely says. “Your time is coming woman, your time is coming.” He feels the darkness engulf him then, and it is a sweet relief.


	29. Dancing Death

**12 th Month of 297 A.C. Nightsong**

**Lady Rhaenys Caron**

It was done, she was a married woman now. The vows had been exchanged in the Sept at Nightsong, an old wrinkled Septon officiating, and whilst Rhaenys heart had ached at the sadness on her brother’s face, she had been relieved that one part of their plan was finally coming together. With this marriage now done they could begin moving on toward reclaiming the throne, and ensuring that Baratheons were removed for good. This would make things more level and interesting she felt. Her husband was an affable sort of fellow, though she knew his interest lay in other places, just as hers did, in fact, their wedding night itself had been an interesting affair. Aegon had entered shortly after all others had left for the continuing revelry, bringing with him their brother Jon, and from there their love making had been wild and erratic.  It was a good thing, her brothers loving one another and Caron, a sense of something that would no doubt make the Faith quake in their shoes.

The lords who had come for the wedding were slowly moving back to their own lands, or were summoning their men here to Nightsong, now that the marriage had taken place, the time was coming for war. The usurper was dead, but his get still sat the throne and it would come time to remove them soon enough. Uncle Oberyn had arrived with some seven thousand Dornish spears with more to come soon enough. It was an interesting time, and this was something that had led to many an interesting discussion. Rhaenys looks at her brother, and feels her loins ache, it had been too long since last they had coupled, Aegon looks every inch a king, and as he speaks he sounds it. “The Lords of the Marches have done their bit so far, they know just where their king is, and what is expected of them. It is more than they ever got from Renly Baratheon or the usurper, I am certain they shall remain loyal.”

“Undoubtedly Sire. The men of the Marches know when to hold true, and this is just one of those examples. You can be sure that we shall fight to the bitter end for you.” Says Lord Swann.

“Good, very good my lord,” Aegon replies. “How soon would Summerhall be completed?”

Rhaenys scrunches her face at that slightly, her brother had ordered that Summerhall be completely rebuilt, but not into a mere summer palace but into a full fortress for their brother Jon. It was not that she did not trust their brother, but she was wary. The Lord Swann speaks then. “It shall be done soon enough. Baratheon did us all a favour when he saw to it that it was partially rebuilt, he had some desire to see it rebuilt, gods above know why.”

Rhaenys looks at her brother and sees the same look in his eye as is undoubtedly in hers, they know where such an incentive came from, but they will not speak of it. “Tell me my lord,” Rhaenys begins. “What of your sons, you have three do you not, and yet only two have come. Why is that?”

The Lord of Stonehelm looks slightly uncomfortable at this, but says. “Ah yes, well one of my boys needed to be left to hold the castle. Could not have my cousins coming in whilst I was away fighting the rightful fight.”

Rhaenys nods and then asks. “And what of your wife? Do you not think she could hold the fortress just as well?”

Lord Swann’s face falls into a shadow then. “My wife, well she is many things, but I do not think she knows the first thing about holding a castle. She is not like you my lady, she does not know where to fight.”

Rhaenys looks at the man and says. “Very well, a shame I would have very much liked to have met Lady Swann.”

Aegon turns to Lord Cafferen then and says. “Tell me Lord Cafferen, how many men do you believe Baratheon could must without the Lords of the Marches as well as the lords of Summerhall?”

Lord Cafferen is a big fat man, who was once a great warrior, but now is nothing but a shadow. His voice is soft when he says. “Not many Your Grace. The force that is gathering for you here will be some fifteen thousand strong, Baratheon might only summon ten thousand of that number. Though of course the Tyrell scum will look to aid him.”

“And how do you think that will come about my lord?” Rhaenys husband asks. “Considering the Tyrells will be busy trying to quell insurrection within their own lands?”

“It is an open secret that Loras Tyrell and Baratheon are lovers, there will be something done there to ensure that a force comes from the Reach to aid the squalling wreck of a Stag. You can count on it.” Lord Cafferen replies.

“Even if Baratheon is being slaughtered here?” Jon asks, speaking for the first time.

“What do you mean my prince?” Lord Grandison asks.

“Baratheon, if he is anything like his brother will be charging towards Nightsong once he learns of this wedding, and seeing as he is Lord of Storm’s End and we have done nothing to keep this thing a secret, I would not be surprised if he does come charging here. He will not have had enough time to gather his fully strength, he will not stand strong here.” Jon says.

Rhaenys sees what her brother is saying and takes up the thread. “It means that even if they want to, the Tyrells might not even be able to help their supposed ally. Renly Baratheon might well be dead and his army broken by the time they get here. There will be no chance for them to come to the rescue.”

There is a lot of murmuring at this and then Lord Hasty speaks then. “Are you sure that that is what you wish to do my king? Having Baratheon as a prisoner could be very useful.”

Rhaenys looks at her brother, and sees him shake his head. “Renly Baratheon is many things, but useful is not one of them. From what you have all told us of him, he is nothing more than a snake. A snake who would try to get the biggest advantage from some treachery or the other. He is better off dead than alive.”

“Keeping him hostage could possibly mean that the Tyrells bend the knee though Your Grace. After all Mace Tyrell is known to follow his third son’s lead more than anything. And they do have a daughter for marriage.” Lord Grandison says.

The room falls silent at this, and Rhaenys feels her heart ache as she sees the dark look forming on Aegon’s face. His voice is calm when he replies. “If that were the case then there would not be rumours about the girl. But regardless, I shall get the Tyrells one way or another, there are other more powerful houses with a better claim to Highgarden that one could ally to.”

There is a moment’s silence and then her husband speaks. “A wise decision Your Grace. On the topic of Baratheons, with the usurper dead and his little brat of a son in power, the Lannister monopoly only grows stronger. There has been a lot of disturbing news emerging from there as of late.”

More interested murmuring picks up at this and Rhaenys shoots her husband a grateful glance, and then asks. “What things have you heard my lord?”

“It seems that Joffrey Baratheon has begun imposing all sorts of taxes on the people of King’s Landing and the Crownlands, as well as imposing a tariff on trade that is so ridiculous the merchants of the realm are beginning to rebel.” Her husband replies.

“And how is it that Jon Arryn is allowing such a thing to happen?” Jon asks. “One would think the man would do something about it.”

“That is the thing though my prince. It seems that Joffrey Baratheon has gotten rid of Jon Arryn, as well as his uncle Stannis Baratheon. It seems that the young man was planning a coup of sorts and decided to get rid of some of the old guard from his father’s council. Arryn’s head adorns a spike along the Red Keep’s walls, and it seems Stannis Baratheon is being held a prisoner.” Her husband says.

A ripple of shock runs through the room then. “He actually executed Jon Arryn?” she hears Lord Grandison ask.

“Yes.” Comes the response from uncle Oberyn who has been silent for most of this time. “Word came from our sources before we left. It seems the young Baratheon is doing this of his own volition. Nothing his mother says or does can stop the reign of terror. It also seems his grandfather Lord Tywin has finally moved into place in King’s Landing with some men.”

“It will not last. It cannot last, the Lords of the Vale will not stand for such a thing, nor will Winterfell. The boy has brought war upon himself by doing this.” Rhaenys says confidently.

There is a murmur of approval there. “The Lady is right,” Lord Cafferen says. “There is not a chance that the Lords of the Vale will remain neutral with such a crime committed against their liege lord. They will have to march, and if Stark needed any more reason to rouse the north, then now he has it.”

Jon speaks then. “Lord Eddard would have called his banners regardless of this. He swore an oath, and my uncle is the sort of man who keeps his oaths.”

Rhaenys closes her eyes then for she knows what is to come next, and it is not a pretty sight. “Forgive me my prince,” begins Lord Grandison. “But Lord Stark was one of the usurper’s most loyal men, it is right that we voice some question of his dedication to the king’s cause. After all we would be fools not to be suspicious.”

“The same could be said for you, my lord.” Jon says heatedly. “After all you bent just as quickly to the usurper, my uncle at least had cause to.”

Before things can get too heated, Rhaenys speaks. “My lords, my prince, come now. Now is not the time to begin making accusations at one another. Mistakes have been made, but new oaths of fealty have been made. None is questioning anyone’s loyalty to King Aegon’s cause. We must stand united to ensure that there is no gap for our enemies to exploit.”

There is a long silence following this, and Rhaenys sees Jon and Lord Grandison looking at one another intently, eventually they both look away when Aegon stands. “Well said my lady, well said. Now is not the time to begin falling apart and making accusations. Lord Stark and the north will fight for us, and we shall end this war quickly. The Baratheons and the Lannisters are good at one thing and one thing alone, and that is making enemies! This action of the boy king has done just that.” A cheer goes up at that, and her brother goes on. “It is time for us to show Tywin Lannister that no matter what game he tries to play he will always fail. And why is that? Because he is a dishonest man, and there is no place for such people here. The ghosts of his past will come to haunt him, and we shall end all he holds dear. Now are you with me?”

A loud cheer sounds in the room at this, and Rhaenys joins in when the lords cry out their approval. “Death to the lions and the stags!” is the call going out, something Rhaenys joins in with relish. She notes Jon looking slightly uncomfortable, but disregards it.

The joviality is somewhat dampened when the door opens and the maester of Nightsong enters the room and panting says. “Riders have been seen Your Grace. Flying the Baratheon banner. They are coming this way!”


	30. Night's Death

**12 th Month of 297 A.C. Stormlands**

**Lord Renly Baratheon**

He had not wanted to come this way, he had not wanted for this to happen, and yet his suspicions, years of looking through the last days of the rebellion had convinced him that it could go no other way. The moment Bryce Caron and the lords of Summerhall refused to attend him at Storm’s End he knew he would have to march out and fight them. For too long had they gone unnoticed, for too long had he been content to allow them their treason, now it would all end, and he would see them dead. Nightsong loomed ahead, he can see the armies gathered under a dragon banner, it does not surprise him as much as it should, for he has long suspected that there was more to the Summerlords defection than met the eye. As he sees the vanguard move out, he sees Loras’ cloak flapping in the wind, and he feels nerves tighten in his gut.

Renly watches as the vanguard goes charging forward, meeting the spears and the foot of the Summerlords. His nerves are on edge, but when he does not see the standard, his standard fall, he keeps hope. He waits a moment more and when he is sure of himself, he raises his sword and the charge begins. Commanding the left wing, Renly feels his heart begin to beat rapidly, his first taste of battle, for long he has waited for this. He knows a win here and the Targaryens will not know what happened to them. His sword meets flesh soon enough, and so the chaos begins. Swinging his sword, using all the knowledge he gathered over the years, he was never a fighter, not like Robert, but he has guile and he can convince others to fight themselves.

The first man Renly Baratheon kills, is not a man in truth, it is a boy, a boy who looks no older than Loras. Renly feels the sword bury itself deep within the man’s skin and feels shock engulf him, his sword is left within the boy. He looks around wildly for another weapon and is grateful when his squire hands him another sword. He takes the sword and begins fighting once more. The men continue pouring through the breach and he feels something within him begin to break. He is not made for fighting, he knows that, but still he continues, swinging his sword, slashing and hacking through one man and then another, the movement becomes easier, and yet his mind is still raising in him a doubt of whether he is made for the field of battle.

Renly does not know where his love is, Loras has disappeared somewhere into the breach, there are men pouring through, stretching themselves, fighting and killing. Renly does not know how to feel about that, he is not sure he knows how to feel about anything right now. His emotions are too different, too broken to truly make a clear thought possible right now. His sword is a heavy weight in his arm, he aches for the pleasures of court but knows that until this fight is done he cannot return there. He will not go to where the Lannisters rule, never again will he do that. Renly moves forward his men move with him, yet he has a feeling something is about to happen, something bad is about to happen, what he is not sure, but he knows something is most definitely about to happen.

Arrows are being fired, and there is chaos everywhere, yet Renly does not know where to look, Loras, where is Loras? Without Loras he feels lost, he feels deeply, deeply lost, without his love, he does not know how to continue. He is struggling through this battle, and he regrets giving Loras command of the vanguard, he wishes he could take that decision back, and yet now he is struggling. He knows Loras would never have forgiven him for doing so, yet now, now he wants nothing more than to move to where his lover is, yet he cannot find him. Panic seizes him, a deep sense of panic, his sense of self is being threatened now. The smell of blood, rancid in the air, the sight of all these bodies sprawled amongst the ground, it begins to make him want to turn and flee. He is ashamed of himself, he is no child to turn and flee at the first sight of trouble, and yet now he wants to do just that. He wants to move away and never come back. The feeling sickens him, this urge to run, it is not manly, it is not Baratheon, and he is nothing but a Baratheon, not like his brother’s children. He roars a challenge and yet in the surge that comes he finds himself floating, as if on air. He does not know where he is, but soon enough his world shatters.

He sees Loras, fighting several men at once, he is without his horse, fighting on foot. Renly watches as Loras kills one man and then another, but the others come crowding in, Renly moves to help his love, but falls, he stumbles to his knees. He hears Loras cry out, but he cannot speak, Loras is fighting one more man, and then another, one pierces his arm, then his leg. His love is falling, fading fast. Loras rises once more and kills one more man, but then, but then he falls to the ground as spears come and pierce his body. Renly feels his heart break as he watches Loras fall without life to the ground. He screams, and roars and charges, but falls down before he can do anything. The battle roars around him, streaming past him in all kinds of colours, he feels sick, his heart is broken, his life means nothing. Loras is dead, dead, and dead because of him. Renly looks up and sees a man he recognises. Bryce Caron is the last man he sees before he dies, and it is an image he resents.


	31. Rowan

****

**12 th Month of 297 A.C. Mander**

**Lord Mathis Rowan**

He had waited a long time to be able to do this, to shake off the shackles of having to serve an oaf such as Mace Tyrell. He had always known the dragons would return, and that when they did his chance to remove the fat flower and his corrupt flower would come. And now it had, Mace Tyrell had not declared for Renly Baratheon and yet all knew that the man would, led on by the example of his son, the Tyrells would drag them away from their true kings and towards the damned Baratheon boy, the fool who thought he could be king. Mathis would not accept that, he damned well would not.

An alliance had formed between himself, the Cranes and the Oakhearts, and together they were marching on Highgarden, Mace Tyrell the fool that he was had been desperate to deal with the situation himself and so calling on those men he could muster from the lands near Highgarden had marched forth from that same castle some days ago. Mathis and his allies had waited until Tyrell was far enough from Highgarden before they crossed the Mander, and now, battle would commence. There would be no talking, no attempts at reconciliation, Mathis was determined to end Mace Tyrell and his foolish family once and for all.

Mathis looks across the field where Mace Tyrell and his army is marching, the air is heavy, heavy with something that Mathis cannot name, he knows they should win this battle. Tyrell has committed a grave error in rushing forth without waiting for Randyll Tarly to come forward with his own retainers. By the time Tarly has mustered his men Tyrell will be dead and Highgarden will be theirs. Mathis smiles at the thought and calls his men to a halt. They are not the ones to engage the Tyrells first and foremost, no that honour goes to the Cranes. Mathis looks around the field and waits with anticipation for the fall to battle.

The horn sounds and Mathis sees the Cranes and their men charging down toward Tyrells host his heart begins hammering within his chest as he waits for the crash to sound. As he watches the Cranes ride with their lances raised, he winces slightly as the crash comes. He cannot see exactly what is happening, but he can tell the battle will be fierce. Mathis, waits a moment and then when he begins hearing the sound of battle, he raises his sword and barks commands. The fighting for his men begins. Mathis digs his spurs into his horse and the charge begins, down the slope they go, the Mander running past them, its sound is reassuring to him, but now he roars a command and they are galloping toward their enemy.

When they hit their enemy, Mathis finds their walls of defence lacking, he swings his sword, cutting through the foes on the ground, slashing away at them, determined that none shall escape their fate. He swings his sword, over and over, hacking and cutting, ducking, slashing, swinging, doing all he can to bring down the Tyrell numbers. They have raised a startling amount of men for the time they were given to do so, he suspects something else might happen at this battle now, something he is not too sure he wants to happen. Putting such a thought from his mind, Mathis takes a deep breath and continues his killing.

The Reach is known as the heart of chivalry, and Mathis has often taken pride in that, but he knows that when it comes to true battle, the men of the Reach will give in to their urges just as any other man would. It is that thought that allows him to swing his sword, keeping his arm raised, slashing through, there are men and faces, and it becomes harder and harder to distinguish between the two of them as the fighting goes on. His heart is hammering inside his chest, he does not know truly whether he can continue onward, but still he does. He will not allow the Tyrells to continue their power surge. He must do as he failed to do when the rebellion happened and when it ended. He has many regrets from that time, not doing more for Prince Rhaegar, not doing more for a host of people who were once his friends. At his side his son Daeron fights, Daeron has long been a man he has had faith in, his favourite child, Daeron is a true warrior, a true lord.

“Onward men push onward!” Mathis roars, and he leads the charge, cutting through those who would come past him. His sword is bathed in blood, his eyes are coloured red from all the blood that has been shed today. His resentment grows at that thought, the Tyrells and their damned greed. Could they not realise just who it was that had gotten them that position of power in the first place, could they not just realise that in order to continue this route of prosperity the dragons were the ones they needed to follow? But no, Mace Tyrell wants his daughter as queen, and so he is willing to tear the kingdom in half simply for some buffoon who calls himself a Baratheon.

His armour is beginning weigh heavily on him, he does not know where the Crane men have gone, the Oakhearts have not even entered the field of battle, but around him he can see the Osgreys fighting hard, pushing against the tide that are the Tyrells direct men. And as he begins to think hope is there, he hears a horn sound, and sees the huntsman of House Tarly come into view, they had been tricked! His heart begins to beat rapidly, and barking several commands at once, he and his captains begin pushing onward, toward where the new threat has emerged. Mathis cuts through several men, his heart hammering, but just as he thinks he will get near to the banner, his horse gives way dragging him down into a pit of bodies and darkness. He struggles to rise, when the sword comes down and a horse comes with it.


	32. Trout

**1 st Month of  298 A.C. Riverrun**

**Ser Edmure Tully**

It felt strange to Edmure, that they were planning something that by the laws of men and the oaths they had sworn was treason. It made no sense to him that he had played host to a boy who had once been seen as the stain on his sister’s marriage to her northern lord. It made no sense to him that the boy was a dragon prince, and that now they were going to march to war for the dragons once more. King Robert was dead, his son a boy, surely it made sense to want to fight for more power there, and yet his father was adamant that they fight for the dragons once more. Edmure did not know what to make of it all, and yet he did as he was told.

He looked around the solar now and spoke. “Are you sure of this course of action father?”

Lord Hoster, had taken ill a year ago, but he was getting better. His voice is strong and clear now. “I believe so. We will not gain anything from supporting the boy on the throne. Through Cat’s marriage to Lord Stark we have connections to the dragons we must make use of that.”

“What of the oaths that were sworn to King Robert following the rebellion?” Edmure asks. “Does that not mean anything anymore?”

“King Robert is dead, Jon Arryn is dead, and Stannis Baratheon is dead. We do not have reason to fight for a boy who would kill his own uncle.” his father responds.

“Lord Hoster is correct Ser Edmure. There is no honour in fighting for a kinslayer. Besides, there is nothing tying Riverrun to the throne anymore.” Ser Robin Ryger says.

Edmure looks at the man and says. “And yet how do we know this is for definite. You speak of our tie to the Targaryens through Cat’s husband and yet the man kept this a secret for most of their marriage. How do we know he is not merely making something up now to commit some act or the other?”

“Do not be naïve boy, Lord Stark is not one to lie. It is obvious he did what he did to protect his nephew. Family is stronger than duty after all.” Lord Hoster responds.

“What of Lord Tywin then?” Edmure asks. “Do you not think he will think it remiss if we do not go to King’s Landing to swear fealty. We know he is hand of the king, and that he thought it remiss that we did not go to King’s Landing in the beginning.”

“The Lord of the Rock has more pressing concerns to deal with. The people of King’s Landing we know had a lot to say about the deaths of Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon. The man does not have eyes everywhere, he cannot control everything.” Lord Hoster responds.

Edmure looks at his father in wonder then. “Then what of the army that he is sure to be mustering, the army we know that is being trained at Lannisport? What are we to do should that come calling?”

“It is not a case of should, it is a case of when. That is why I asked you to send the summons to arms out. We must be prepared. Tywin Lannister is in King’s Landing but his army is in the Westerlands that gives us a chance to gain the advantage.” Lord Hoster responds.

“How?” Edmure asks.

“Gather our men and prepare for an attack on the West. Yes the Golden Tooth is there, but we can march into the West without needing to use the tooth. The Tumblestone is there for a reason.” Lord Hoster says.

“You would attack the west without them provoking us before hand?” Edmure asks incredulously. “Surely that would be tantamount to declaring war?”

Edmure sees his father pick up a letter that had come from King’s Landing some days ago. “This letter here is an act of war in itself. Sending Ser Jaime with men to investigate why we are not doing anything about troubles to the south. He is threatening us. It is only right we respond in kind.”

Edmure looks at his father nervously then. “The fighting in the Stormlands does not concern us though. Surely we can use that as reason should the Kingslayer come here?”

His father snorts. “You think that fool will care what our reasons are? No he will do as his father has told him to do, and he will enforce something or the other on us. I will not allow that to happen.”

“How will you prevent him from doing this?” Edmure asks. “There is no viable alternative I can see other than someone actually intercepting his party.”

At his father’s smile, Edmure feels his heart begin to quicken. “Why father? Why are you doing all of this? This is madness.”

“I will not be caught out by the Lannisters again. This happened once before, and it will not happen again. This time we shall defeat them, and that man, that man must fall.” Hoster says coughing slightly.

Edmure looks at Ser Robin worriedly, but his worries are only heightened when he sees the eager look on the man’s face. “What is the plan my lord?” the man asks.

“Send word to Harrenhal, instruct Lord Whent to begin marshalling men. When Jaime Lannister comes near Harrenhal, I want him seized. He is disturbing the peace, he and his father both.” Lord Hoster responds coughing.

“That will most certainly invite more severe reaction from King’s Landing, father are you sure of this?” Edmure asks.

The coughs begin racking his father’s body, and he is surprised his father can even speak, yet still he does. “The most sure I have ever been in my life son. This must be done, and we must do it quickly.”

“But why?” Edmure asks.

His father looks at him then and responds. “Because the dragons gave us what we have now, it is time we repaid them.”


	33. Dragons

**1 st Month of 298 A.C. Nightsong**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

The battle for Nightsong had been a complete victory, that fool Renly Baratheon and his men had been crushed. The lords of Summerhall, had shown their worth, and now Baratheon was dead slain by Aegon’s brother by marriage, and the fool’s friend and Knight Loras Tyrell was dead as well, slain trying to get to Renly. Whilst the man’s death meant that the Tyrells would likely not side with him, Aegon did not truly care, he wanted those up jumped stewards gone, and he wanted them gone now. There would be time enough to deal with those traitors, for now he needed to concentrate on other things.

“This battle was a success, the lords who fought for that fool Baratheon have bent the knee or been killed. Their men are now mine. I would know what else has occurred in the Stormlands.” Aegon says.

Jon, Prince of Summerhall, confirmed as such after the battle, and Prince of the Stormlands speaks then. “I spoke with Lord Selwyn Tarth before this meeting Your Grace, and it seems that the Stormlords were planning some sort of betrayal of Baratheon regardless of the outcome of this battle. There is also much anger over the death of all three Baratheon brothers now, though King Robert is more lamented than the others. It seems the usurper still had some respect here.”

Aegon nods. “Very well, that is of little consequence now. The Baratheons are all but finished. Tell me what word from Storm’s End. Has that man Penrose seen sense?”

“It seems he wants to speak with you in person Your Grace. He wants assurances that the bastard Edric Storm will not be harmed when he bends the knee.” Jon responds.

“Storm, he is the usurper’s bastard is he not?” Aegon asks.

“He is Your Grace. But he is but a boy, and can be easily moulded.” Aegon’s goodbrother Bryce Caron says.

“He could well be used as a rallying point should the Stormlords turn on you Your Grace.” Rhaenys says.

Aegon looks at his sister, and sees her swelling stomach, his heart aches then, but he pushes that thought aside. “They would fight for a bastard boy? What sense is there in that?”

“There is none Your Grace,” Lord Grandison says. “But some of my fellow lords do not often think with their heads. It would be better to remove the child or better yet, have him sent to the wall when all of this is done.”

Aegon considers this and then says. “Well, it shall be your decision Jon. After all you are Prince of this kingdom now, I shall leave it to you to decide when you go to Storm’s End to meet with Penrose.”

His brother looks surprised at this but merely nods and then says. “We have received word from the Reach Your Grace.” His brother pauses a moment and then says. “It seems Mathis Rowan is dead, slain at the Mander, and though his death hurt the loyalist lords’ cause, it did not stop them from pushing on toward Highgarden. Mace Tyrell is stuck within his castle, and his men are struggling to keep the offensive going.”

A cheer goes up at this and then Aegon says. “Good, very good. But what of Tarly? And the Florents, what are they doing?”

He sees his brother looking at the letter before him and Jon responds. “I believe they are fighting amongst themselves. Tarly is either dead or wounded depending on whom one speaks to. The Florents are causing havoc raiding lands this way and that, the Hightowers remain in their tower whilst their bannermen fight the Florents. Others within the Reach are struggling to keep themselves above the fighting, and many are fleeing into the riverlands and into the Stormlands.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Lord Caron speaks. “That will be a great issue should it go unchecked Your Grace. I take it that these are the common people who are fleeing Prince Jon?” When his brother nods, Caron goes on. “It would seem that there might be a chance to use them.”

Aegon merely looks at the man before turning to Jon and asking. “Do you know how many are fleeing?”

“Hundreds some say thousands. They are coming in droves trying to avoid the chaos that is slowly engulfing the reach Your Grace.” Jon responds.

Aegon considers this a moment and then says. “Let us see what sort of attitudes these people have before we pass judgement, if they cause trouble kill them, if they want to have a roof over their head, we press them into fighting. Now what of the riverlands?” He can tell by the reaction of some of the lords that not all of them agree with what he has said, but there are more pressing matters at hand right now.

His brother looks at him a moment, and Aegon knows that he has not heard the last of these fleeing people, but thankfully his brother merely says. “It seems that Lord Hoster has been organising his defences well. Jaime Lannister is going to be in the riverlands soon enough to see what exactly is the matter with the Tullys, it seems Lord Hoster intends to capture him.”

There is a slight murmur at this, and Aegon turns to look at his uncle. “Uncle Oberyn, do you have anything to add?”

His uncle, who had come with some ten thousand Dornishmen, smiles slyly then. “I say we go after the Kingslayer and bring him to justice.”

“I was thinking the same.” Aegon replies smiling. “The man has committed a grave many offences, it is time we had him brought to justice for them would you not say?”

“Most definitely Your Grace, most definitely. I believe a spear through the throat would the job nicely.” Oberyn replies.

“So it is decided then, Jon, you shall march for Storm’s End with the men of Summerhall and the lords of the Stormlands. I shall take the Dornish men to the Riverlands, and we shall destroy Ser Jaime and whatever men he has with him. From there we shall march on King’s Landing.” Aegon declares.


	34. Kingslayer

**2 nd Month of 298 A.C. Riverlands**

**Ser Jaime Lannister**

He did not have a good feeling about this, there is something not quite right about the riverlands, there has never been anything quite right about the riverlands. Jaime does not like how fractious it can often be, how chaotic, having grown up as a son of Tywin Lannister, Jaime came to like order and security, and yet the riverlands never offered that. And of course he can never forget just how loyal to the dragons the Riverlords have always been.  Now as he and his men, all five hundred of them ride through the lands, Jaime is on high alert, and he will not be caught off guard, not this time.

The sound of hooves on the ground is a reassuring sound to Jaime, there has been too much turmoil as of late, too much change, it is not good, he does not think what happened in King’s Landing was right. Stannis needed to go, but Jon Arryn that man could have been kept alive, and used to bring the Vale to heel, now they are baying for blood. The attacks on King’s Landing are a sign of that. Of course, neither his sister nor his father are listening to him, otherwise he would not be here, instead he would be there in King’s Landing defending the city, fighting.

Instead he was here, riding through the damned riverlands, trying not to get bored to death. Whent had tried to have them stopped but a bribe to his captain had seen that they were not disturbed and now Riverrun was coming ever closer. Jaime could smell it, he could taste it, and the thought of bringing the damned Tullys to heel, and it was almost enticing. Oh he wanted to do it desperately, to bring them down to a level where he could ensure they were broken. The burst of light that comes through the clouds at that moment dazzles him momentarily, and when it passes he can hear the sound of footfalls, horses slipping into the light. The banners are those he did not think to see in Westeros ever again, not after the prince died. The guilt filters through and now he sees a man dressed in the prince’s armour riding toward him at the head of the party the hounds of the seven hells approaching.

Jaime calls his men to arms, and soon they are coming together, preparing to fight. The youth, wearing the prince’s armour a crown atop his helm charges for Jaime and Jaime clashes blades with the youth. He is skilled this false dragon, he is strong and Jaime finds himself straining to keep up with the fighting. Swinging his sword, he pushes through, the youth feints and Jaime follows, bringing his sword up to block the man’s swing. On they go, dancing around one another, mounted atop their horses. Armour, steel, it all gets used. Swinging, slashing, blocking, weaving, cursing, it all becomes part of the course that is this fight. Around him his men are fighting those who have come with this pretender, and they are dying, being impaled on spears and daggers. The weapons are used with force, blunt and true.

The tide of battle pushes them away, the youth moving through Jaime’s men, Jaime struggling through the tide of battle. His sword swinging left, right, centre. It all moves, he does not truly know what is happening anymore, but he knows he cannot surrender, not now, Cersei is relying on him. He has to get back to Cersei, he promised her he would return and that is a promise he means to keep. His sword is wet with blood, dripping crimson red, his body aches, but still he continues, Cersei is prominent in his mind, she is there throughout it all, all of it, she is all he needs. His sword comes arching up to kill yet another man or woman, he does not know anymore, he does not care anymore, all he wants is to return home, to Cersei, to her embrace. Jaime slices through the air, but he knows that his time is running out, slowly, and very slowly it is disappearing, it is disappearing, and he does not know whether he has the strength to continue.

His horse gives way, and he manages to jump off before it falls. He tumbles and rolls away through the press, but somehow he ends up being captured. He is knocked out, and when he comes to many hours later, the battle is done. Riverrun is still far in the distance, and his men are all dead. He looks up at the youth, and has a fleeting moment of recognition. “How?” all he manages to ask.

“My mother was far braver than you ever were.” is all the youth says.

“You know nothing of me or my struggle. You are not real.” Jaime retorts.

He feels the press of steel against his throat. “I am most definitely real Kingslayer, oath breaker. I shall see you dead before this day is out. But first I must ask you something. Did you mean the promise you made that day before the heart tree?”

“What promise, I do not know what you mean.” Jaime retorts.

Steel digs deeper into this throat. “I think you do Kingslayer, the promise you made to my mother long before the war began to turn. I would know it. Did you mean it?”

There is much and more that Jaime has tried to forget about that time, he is ashamed of what he has become, ashamed of what he was. He looks at this youth, feels blood trickle down his neck, he looks past the youth to where one of his heroes stands watching him with dispassionate eyes. “I do not know anymore. I gave up in such things long ago.”

The steel is withdrawn, and Jaime exhales, but then he is thrown to the ground. “Then you shall die.” He closes his eyes as he hears steel whistle. Jaime thinks of Cersei as his life ends.


	35. Storm Prince

**2 nd Month of 298 A.C. Storm’s End**

**Prince Jon Targaryen**

Storm’s End was an intimidating fortress, Jon had heard about it growing up as a child, but never had he thought in his entire life that he would actually be here, sat where a Baratheon had once sat, speaking with the man who now could determine how his rule of the Stormlands would go. He had been deeply surprised that his brother had been willing to name him Prince of Summerhall let alone of the Stormlands, they had only known one another a short time, yet the trust that Aegon showed in him was truly heart-warming, and Jon was determined to make his brother proud. He looks at the man before him, and notes the weariness in Ser Cortnay Penrose’s eyes.

“The king does not mean to harm yourself, your family or Edric Storm Ser, you need not look so tense.” Jon says soothingly.

“The king is a Targaryen, my ward’s father did a great many things to ensure that the king would have reason to want all Baratheons or their bastards dead. Forgive me my prince for being wary.” Penrose replies.

“Well then take heart in knowing that His Grace The King is most merciful and most willing to allow Edric Storm to live on as a ward in Parchments, not at the royal court. He shall be well treated should he ever wish to come to court of course. And of course, the loyalty of the Stormlords is essential to the future of the kingdom.” Jon says

Penrose laughs. “Ah you fear that I will use the boy as a rallying point against the king? No, I would not be so foolish. Edric is but a bastard with no claim on anything. Perhaps with time he can grow to be a man of worth, for now though, it would content me just to make sure he is alive.”

 _I had nothing once, I was a mere bastard once and more than once I wondered why Lady Catelyn did not kill me. Aegon is right to take such precautions._ Jon thinks. Aloud he merely says. “Of course Ser, and you are right to do so. These times are very perilous, the Lannisters will work without fail to see any threat to their ill begotten king’s throne. We must work together to see justice done.”

The knight merely nods then. “So are we sorted then? Edric shall return with me to Parchments whilst Your Grace takes residence within Storm’s End for the time being?”

“Yes Ser, I believe we are.” Jon responds. “Now if you would just wait a moment I shall summon the rest of the lords in to hear your oath.” The knight nods and Jon stands and opens the door and soon enough the rest of the lord enter.

Penrose stands then and walks to stand before Jon, where he gets on bended knee and says. “I, Ser Cortnay of the House of Penrose, do in the name of the garrison of Storm’s End, formally swear our undying loyalty to House Targaryen and our most loved sovereign, His Grace, King Aegon Targaryen Sixth of that most regal name. We shall commit all our arms and resources to seeing him sat on the throne.”

There is a moment’s silence as Jon allows that to be digested and then he says. “You may rise Ser.” Once the old man has risen Jon dismisses him and allows him to return to his duties as castellan of Storm’s End. Once the man has gone, Jon asks the other lords to sit and then speaks. “Now that Penrose has bent the knee he shall leave for Parchments soon enough, that is one problem sorted with. There are other things we must deal with. The Kingswood stands between us and the capital, of course I would not be surprised if the Lannisters send men southward to fight us, and we must be prepared.”

There is a murmur of agreement and then Lord Estermont speaks. “My prince, forgive me for asking, but do you think it is truly wise to allow Ser Cortnay to leave with Edric Storm? Do you not think it would be better if he were kept here under your supervision?”

Jon looks at the old man and says. “Ser Cortnay has given me his word that he would not use Edric Storm for any reason. The man seems to love the boy as a son, I would not question his honour by keeping them both here.”

“Men say many things when they wish to avoid death my prince.” Lord Tarth says. “It would not be surprising at all if Penrose merely said what he believed you wished to hear to avoid having the sword take his head from his body. He and Lord Renly were very close as well, and it would not be surprising if there was something more to Penrose. He bent too easily.”

“So are you suggesting that I should keep probing him, to see if there are any cracks in his armour?” Jon asks his irritation coming to the fore. “Should I keep probing until he does something in anger that will cause me to regret what such an action would cost?”

“No my prince, I am merely asking that you do not make a mistake with Penrose. He is a slippery old man, and not one above lying. You cannot afford for him to escape with Edric Storm, the consequences of such a thing would be far too dire to tell.” Lord Tarth responds, a smile on his face.

Jon grits his teeth, something Lord Caron had said about the Tarths long ago filtering into his head now. Fighting to keep his voice even he replies. “You need not worry my lord, I shall ensure that Ser Cortnay is kept under a watch before he does leave and even when he does leave, I shall make sure none can intercept him.”

Before Lord Tarth can respond, there is a knock on the door, calling for whoever it is to enter, Jon finds himself looking at the maester for the castle. “Yes? What is it?” he asks impatiently.

“My prince, word has come from Griffin’s Roost. It seems the Golden Company have taken the castle.” the maester responds.


	36. A Fish Out Of Water

**3 rd Month of 298 A.C. Tumblestone**

**Ser Edmure Tully**

They had marched out from Riverrun determined to end the Lannister threat from the west. The king was riding in the centre, and Edmure, well he had been given command of the vanguard. Some thirty thousand men had come from the Riverlands determined to destroy the Lannisters, and yet Edmure could not help but think that they would not be facing such a worrying invasion had the king not executed Jaime Lannister. The king who to him seemed to be over confident and cocky, who reminded him of a green boy despite the battles he had fought. It was worrying to him, that they were putting so much faith into this young man, that he could mess it all up seemed not to have entered into anyone’s thoughts.

As the call to battle went up, Edmure put such thoughts aside and dug his spurs in leading the charge. The Lannister host was already there waiting for him, some forty thousand strong, raging and angry. Edmure and his men crashed into them, their lances raised, there was much chaos and activity. Edmure found his heart racing as they continued forward, the mass of bodies growing ever more present as they charge down the lines. He is screaming himself hoarse, encouraging his men to come with him, down to the pits of the seven hells if they must. Men are impaled on his lance and shaken off, and the drive continues, on and on it goes.

The lions are fighting hard, Edmure soon has to discard his lance for a true weapon. His sword is drawn and soon enough the fighting begins in earnest. Now all chivalry is forgotten and the true blood bath begins. His heart begins to beat much more rapidly, he can feel it thudding in his chest, his blood is pumping, and his vision is not as clear as it was, but it is also clearer than it was. He does not quite understand how that works, but he does not think to question it. Edmure reacts with instinct, using his sword to do what his mind knows it should but cannot truly do.  His arms are beginning to ache now, but still he continues, something is changing inside him, it feels as if something has awoken, he likes this feeling inside of him, he likes the feeling of strength that this gives him.

Lions are everywhere, gods alone know how they will succeed, the Tumblestone roars to the side, and under them, and the Lannisters come crawling forward, rampant in their wrath. Edmure and his men soldier onward, determined to not break down. It is important they continue the fight, they must make the King’s easier, despite his own reservations, and Edmure knows his father truly wants to make a good impression on the new king, and being too weak to lead the fighting himself, it is for Edmure to lead the Riverlords, and that is what he shall do. His sword is red from one end to another, and a sense of relief fills him, for his first battle he does not feel too bad, he does not feel as if he is in a league that is beyond him. He feels comfortable.

The slashing and swinging of his sword soon becomes the relative ease for him, it becomes normal. The fighting continues, hacking away, men are falling before him, one more body added to the count, parrying, ducking, the nerves continue to filter through. His chest is moving upward and downward with such alarming speed he does not truly know whether to be worried or carefree about it all. Deciding that such concerns can wait till after the battle, Edmure pushes on. He feels pain in his chest, from where weapons have struck him, but he is not sure whether or not the pain is real or imagined.

The Tumblestone roars in the background, the heat from his helmet is nearly suffocating, he does not know whether or not he can breathe properly, but still the energy he has felt since battle began continues. He swings his sword, and feels the satisfactory sound of steel clipping through bone, his tiredness begins to grow, and still he continues, spurring his horse further forward, ever forward. Going through it all, swinging his sword, slashing, cutting, ducking and parrying, doing all that is needed to remain alive in this sweltering heat. He is not sure why but he has the urge to get down and go for a swim, he desperately wants to be cool again, but his armour is cooking him alive.

Suddenly, his horse gives way and Edmure finds himself struggling to remove himself from the straps holding him to the saddle. Eventually he manages and he throws himself forward and ends up rolling into a ball on the ground. He quickly unfurls himself and gets up just as a man comes charging toward him. Edmure manages to move to the side, avoiding the swing, and scrabbling to find a weapon, grabs the first thing he can find, just as the man swings his sword at him once more. Edmure raises the weapon he has and blocks the blow, but soon enough the strain of holding the two together causes him to drop the weapon and take a step backward. Instantly he regrets that for he feels his foot get wet, the river is behind him, and the man is advancing on him, with several more men coming toward him.

Edmure begins backing further, and further back, feeling the river deepen around him, until he stops and it is up to his waste. He can feel it pulling him down, pulling him down and trying to tempt him to go under willingly. The men are standing there staring at him, their numbers, growing. Edmure feels his nerves begin to grow and then disappear, he says a quick prayer to the seven and hopes his father will forgive him, that done he charges out of the river and begins ducking and swaying, he tackles one man and brings him down, stealing his weapon, he parries one blow, and then another, and then another.  Edmure finds that there are too many of the men before him, but he will not surrender, he refuses to do so. And instead he takes one man on and as the others stab him this way and that, he roars and roars, and then Edmure Tully roars no more.


	37. ?

**3 rd Month of 298 A.C. Tumblestone**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

The Tumblestone roared around him, his skin was covered in sweat, his body ached and tiredness covered him like a blanket. Aegon wanted his sister there, and at the same time he was glad she was not. He wanted her embrace, his armour was chafing, it was cutting deep down into his pools of strength, and gods alone knew what was happening elsewhere. Ser Edmure had led the vanguard into a mad charge and now Aegon was receiving confusing reports about what was going on further up the river. All he knew was what it was important that he kept going, there was too much riding on this battle, win here and the Lannisters would be broken.

His helm is like to choke him, and yet he continues, swinging, urging his horse forward, determined not to stop, not until all was said and done. The Lannisters, a family he has grown up hating, determined to see them destroyed, just as they broke his family, so too would he destroy them. He would do what should have been done to them so long ago, he would tear them limb from limb and ensure that they never rose again. It was time to destroy those who had hurt his family, he would ensure they never got powerful. His sword came down in a sharp arc, carving one man and then another into pieces, ensuring that there was nothing left of them before moving on.

The lions are coming pouring down in great numbers, it seems the plan worked, and Jaime Lannister’s death sent shocks throughout Westeros, it seemed that this host was Tywin Lannister’s reaction to his favourite son’s death, and Aegon marvelled at that. Marvelled at the fact that a man who most lauded as being calm, could be so erratic and careless when it came to his son’s death, and that too not his heir. Oh Aegon would take great delight in cutting down these damned Lannister men before he killed Tywin Lannister himself, most definitely so. He barks a command and pushes his men onward.

There are bodies, many, many bodies floating around in the river, Aegon can see them through the narrow slit in his helm, they unnerve him slightly, but he continues fighting, pushing his men through the throng, fighting the desire to hide and run. He knows that if he were to break, his men would break as well, and he will not break. He is a descendant of the conqueror, and such men do not break and flee. No matter how much their arms might shake, or their hearts might want to give. He continues fighting, roaring commands, slashing down opponents determined to ensure that his men do not lose the advantage they have so painstakingly gained.  It drives him forward, ensuring that his fears are pressed down, that they do not waver, he will not waver. He is the king, he cannot afford to waver.

The sight of his uncle charging on ahead, gives Aegon some sense of pride, his uncle, who he has grown up admiring is leading the charge, his blood filled with a sense of duty and revenge. Aegon knows that Arthur harboured some doubts about uncle Oberyn beforehand, that his desire to get revenge might impede on his desire for sense and victory, but seeing him now, Aegon knows that his uncle would never do something foolish as to risk their chances of victory. There is a small part of Aegon that resents having to share co command with his uncle, and feels that as King he should command his own host, but he values his uncle’s experience and as such has managed to push such feelings to the side.

The feeling sinks when he sees his uncle’s horse trip on something, a body he thinks, his uncle’s horse goes down, and Aegon’s heart gets into his mouth. His uncle gets up a moment later, and soon enough spear in hand is fighting several men at once. Aegon watches spell bound, unable to do anything as he sees his uncle bring down one man and then another, and then another. But more and more men are gathering, determined to end the threat of the Red Viper, something is worrying Aegon now, there is more to this, there is always more to these things, he knows that much about war. His uncle is there, swinging his spear as if it is little more than a utensil and on he fights. More and more Lannister men fall before his spear, and then, and then the thing Aegon thought would never happens, happens. His uncle is brought down, several men attacking him at once.

Aegon feels something inside of him snap, his anger envelops him, images engulf him, a woman crying as a brute of a man rapes her, a girl screaming, he does not know what these images are, but they feed him with anger. A roar rips from his voice and he is charging off toward the cowards who killed his uncle before he can realise that. Ser Arthur is quick behind him as are the other Dornishmen not engaged in fighting already. His sword, Blackfyre, screams through the convulsing crow, singing with the blood it has shed, cutting those into tiny pieces, determined to see an end to it all. He swings his sword again and again, watching the bodies fall to the ground, and looking as his uncle’s eyes stare at him without seeing.

Rage takes a hold of Aegon, and he forgets where he is and who he is for a time, the only thing on his mind the desire to kill, swinging his sword bringing all those who dare come before him in an arc of death and blood. He does not care who it is, but they will all die he is certain of it. Sweat and tears mingle together, all of it filling him with more anger.  As the men grow scarcer he becomes aware of a horn sounding, and the banners of white flying somewhere, it seems the wolves have come.


	38. Wash

**4 th Month of 298 A.C. Stormlands**

**Prince Jon Targaryen**

There was one thing that he would never understand about the southrons, and it was their ability to remain as if they were superior when they clearly were not. The Golden Company had demonstrated that, destroying whatever ranging parties Jon had sent out, though increasingly, he was beginning to suspect that there was more to that than met the eye. For starters, whilst others complained about that, Selwyn Tarth said nothing, remaining silent, deadly silent. It was beginning to unnerve Jon and yet he dared not speak out on it yet, for he had not completely secured the loyalty of these lords, and so could not risk offending any of them, as much as he wanted to.

The men around him seemed tired, and he could not blame them, there was some sort of darkness surrounding them, ever since word had come of Aegon’s execution of Jaime Lannister, a cloud had hung over them. The shock of the action and the consequences that had come from it, Ser Edmure’s death, Prince Oberyn’s death, the decimation of the rivermen and the Westermen, all of it had come from that one action, and now the consequences were growing. Something told Jon that that battle was not the end of it, that Tywin Lannister would bring more to the reckoning and Jon could not help but feel nervous. He did not know what it would be, but he could tell it would not be good.

They marched through the darkness that was becoming increasingly familiar to Jon and his men, there was a sense of foreboding within the army, and Jon felt it as well, he did not know why but he knew, he just knew something was going to happen. He could feel it in his bones, and it seemed that his men did as well. The beating of drums soon reached their ears, and his pulse quickened, the drums grew louder and louder, his heart began hammering away, there seemed not to be any room for doubt now, they were to engage in battle, against a force known for its prowess. He would be lying if he said he was not nervous, he was damned nervous, so very nervous.

Sure enough, they got through the clearing and there before them mounted on fiery steeds from the east were the golden company, archers were there, and their arrows began whirring the moment they came into the company’s sight. Their organisation threatened to break ranks, swelling and swelling until breaking point came. Jon barked commands, but they got lost within the chaos of the charge, there was much and more going on around him, Jon was not sure how to proceed but he knew that order had to be restored, but he could not break through, when the chaos had begun his guards had formed around him and were now not allowing him to get out.

Jon watches as men of the Golden Company come charging down on the men of the Stormlands, though they are outnumbered they make it appear as if it does not matter, there is more and more fighting, and Jon watches unable to do anything as men fall to their deaths. Blood pools around the ground, men stare into the sky unseeingly, Jon watches all of this protected from the fighting by his guards, men his brother ordered to protect him, and he feels a deep sense of anger within him unable to break through, unable to help, unable to do anything.

The ranks are breaking, they are forming and then shattering, Jon feels a sense of helplessness engulf him, and then anger replaces it. He barks a command, his guards protest, but they quieten down when they realise he will not move on this. He will not allow his men to die whilst he remains here like some sort of child. He is a prince of the blood, and he will make damned sure that his men know it, and that these false knights know it as well. He draws his sword, and spurs his horse on, meeting the first foe to meet with him with a bark and a swing. He laughs as that man goes down, and he pushes on swinging his sword with abandon, determined to end this threat and to rally his men.

His sword becomes red with blood, his arms are filled with fire, and there is fire in his gut, the determination to ensure that none before him go unpunished. They are threatening his brother’s realm, and for that he will make them pay. He does not care who is commanding them, he will see them dead. His sword moves of its own accord, cutting a bloody path through the men of the company, Jon is laughing now, laughing because he is hurting inside, there is something wrong with this picture, but he does not know what it is. He does not much care either, he continues fighting and killing, laughing all the while.

Bodies lie piled up around him, his horse is tired, hells he is tired, he knows the struggle, his men seem to have stopped the urge to run, he knows he still feels it, but it is quickly disappearing. Jon continues barking commands, determined to rout the damned invaders as quickly as he can and find out who it is that is commanding them. That was the one thing his scouts could never determine, they do not know who it is. Garbled reports, and mixed messages, there is too much confusion, far too much confusion. Jon roars a command once more and he and his men push on.

The bodies are seared into his mind now, there they shall remain, but as Jon watches the ranks of the company grow smaller and smaller, he gets a deep feeling of hope, a sense that all is not lost. He comes to blows with a man who wears a dragon on his armour, and as he fights this man, he notes the style, something similar to Aegon, the build is even the same, but the man is not as good a fighter, and Jon quickly destroys the man he is fighting, bringing his sword down and back up again. He roars a triumphant roar and it is answered by the sound of thunder. 


	39. Destruction Of The Empty

****

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

Nothing was going according to plan, Jaime was dead, his firstborn son was dead, his and Joanna’s little boy was dead. Gone, killed by a boy who called himself a dead babe’s name. Tywin was not sure how this was happening, or even why this was happening. He had done his duty that day during the sack, had done as had been asked of him, and now it was coming back to haunt him. It seemed it was all coming back to haunt him, perhaps that witch had been right, after all, everything she had predicted had come true. Starting with the Reynes and their rebellion, and going on to now. Everything she had ever said would come true had come true. Now he merely needed to wait for his death to come. Perhaps, perhaps not. He was not going to go without a fight.

“We have suffered a grave many defeats as of late. But that is not to be too much a cause for concern. This pretender is facing opposition from many corners. The Reach continues to fight itself half to death, the Westerlands still remain strong and the Vale, well they are beginning to crack. I do not see the Vale coming to the fore for much longer.” Tywin says.

His daughter looks at him a moment and then asks. “How can you be so sure? Surely they will continue this damned embargo for as long as that mad woman orders them to. Our master of coin has not been as successful as we thought he might have been.”

Tywin looks at the master of coin and sees that he looks quite angry. “On the contrary my queen, I think you will find that due to my efforts Lady Lysa has begun looking more closely at Yohn Royce and his allies. I have warned her of a threat to her son, and as I am sure you know, there is nothing more a mother would take seriously than a threat her children.”

 _Well played Baelish._ Tywin sees his daughter think on this a moment, a rare moment of peace since this damned war began. “That is true, if there is one thing that mad woman cares about, it is her snivelling son. Perhaps she will see sense and remove her damned ships from the bay.”

“She will have to my queen, the Royces are quickly gaining ground.” Baelish responds. “They are doing all they can to undermine her position, she needs those men.”

Tywin speaks then. “And so there we have it. Lysa Tully will do as her love commands, for there is not a greater joy than serving those we love. Those ships shall be removed from our harbour sooner rather than later. The only issue remains that of the Velaryon fleet within the Gullet, they shall make it harder for those ships to leave.”

The eunuch speaks then. “Worry not my lord hand, I can have my sources deal with that problem easily enough.”

Tywin looks at the eunuch suspicion filling his mind but he merely nods. “Do what you can Lord Varys, and see to it that Lord Monford is no longer in command by the end of the day.”

“The day my lord hand?” the eunuch asks.

“The day. We do not have all that much time, if the reports coming from the riverlands are true. Velaryon must be removed before we can move on with the next stage of this war.” Tywin replies curtly.

At the worried look that briefly flashes on the eunuch’s face, Tywin knows that the man was expecting something else, hiding a smile Tywin listens as the eunuch merely responds. “Of course my lord hand. It shall be done with the utmost of haste.”

Tywin nods and then says. “Tell me Pycelle, what word has there been from within the Riverlands that is of a reliable narrative.”

The Grand Maester is silent a moment and then he says. “It would seem my lord hand that the battle fought at the Tumblestone saw a great number of deaths amongst them Ser Edmure Tully and Prince Oberyn Martell, two big blows to the rebels, but our own forces saw the deaths of Ser Stafford Lannister as well as his son Ser Daven. The westerlands forces are now under the command of Lord Crakehall and have begun a retreat to the westerlands. It seems that the battle was rather evenly matched until the arrival of the northern forces, which tipped it into the hands of the rebels.”

“Stark supporting rebels? What has the world come to?” his daughter asks.

“It seems Your Grace that Stark has declared for these rebels because his own bastard son, who he now claims to be the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his sister Lyanna Stark is a prince of the blood. It would seem Stark has forgotten all sense of honour and sense.” Pycelle replies.

Tywin looks at the maester for a long moment then. “It would seem that Stark has not the decency to come forth to court with proof of these things, or even consider swearing an oath to his friend’s son. Send out a bill of attainder against him and his men and family. And send word out to his enemies within the north, let us see who remembers their oaths.”

There is a moment of silence and then his daughter asks. “What good would that do? The north seems to lick the boots of the Starks and do everything they ask.”

“The Starks are lords just the same as anyone else, and there will be lords who were angry with Stark for declaring for a Targaryen, whether this boy is one or not. We can use that anger, and exploit it for the king’s good. Turn some of his lords on him, and watch the chaos that causes.” Tywin responds.

“Who?” his daughter asks.

“The two houses who have the most to gain from betraying Stark.” Tywin replies simply, a plan already forming within his mind. 


	40. Dragon Meeting Wolf

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. Riverrun**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

The sight of the battle still played in his mind, taunting him, making him want to wretch sometimes at night. It was plaguing his mind, and making him despise himself. It had been a bloodbath, so many had died during the fighting, especially after the northmen had come. Aegon could still see the bodies and heads of the traitors and sometimes he wondered whether this was all worth it. The nightmares, the torturing of his mind and soul, it was something he wondered on often, and yet had no one to give a voice to about it. He was the king and as such he had to act it. That was why, he was finding it hard to focus, and yet focus he did. There as much and more he had to decide on as king.

Aegon looks at the men in the Lord of Riverrun’s solar and speaks. “Ser Edmure’s death was a great shame. He fought valiantly and his service shall always be remembered. I will not forget what he did for us all at Tumblestone. And yet, we must move forward. Riverrun shall need an heir. And with Lord Hoster’s health failing such an heir must be found immediately.”

There are murmurs of approval and then Lord Stark speaks. “My wife is Lord Hoster’s heir, and after her come our children.” Stark is a straight talker and Aegon finds that he quite likes the man, he can see where some of Jon’s characteristics come from.

“Would that be wise though? No offense my lord, but a woman as heir or even a child as heir to a castle such as Riverrun during a time of war? That might not be advisable.” Lord Bracken says.

“And why is that my lord? BY the laws of the land, Lord Stark’s wife and their children are now Lord Hoster’s heirs. Denying that, would create a dangerous precedent.” Aegon argues.

“It might do, but at the same time, and speaking honestly Your Grace, I know there are many within the riverlands and even within this very room that would chafe at being ruled by a woman or a small boy who has grown up within the north.” Lord Bracken responds.

Aegon sees his brother’s cousin Robb tense at that. “Lord Robb is no young boy, he is a warrior who proved himself at the Tumblestone, and as such would make a fine lord. But of course that in itself raises its own problems. Mainly the power imbalance that this would create.”

“So what do you suggest then Your Grace?” Lord Darry asks.

“I suggest that Lord Stark’s second son Brandon come south when this war is done, and that he come and learn what he can from his grandfather Lord Hoster, and that this be done through him fostering here. He shall learn the ways of the riverlands and their people. Of course, if that is agreeable to you my lord?” Aegon says looking at the old lord.

For a man who seems desperately ill, Lord Hoster can maintain his dignity as well as any man Aegon has ever met. He is silent for a moment and then he says. “I believe that to be a fair choice Your Grace. Though I would advise that word be sent for my brother Ser Brynden. I do not think I have long for this world, and would not see my grandson raised by anyone else if he is to become Lord of Riverrun.”

There is a general murmuring of agreement at this and then Aegon speaks. “Very well, now that that has been decided, let us turn our attention to other pressing matters. The host of Westermen that threatened us on the Tumblestone broke and scattered, most of their men were either killed or captured, but some did escape. I would hear your thoughts on what we should do.”

A moment of silence follows this and then Lord Stark speaks. “I believe Your Grace that we should see to it that the borders are secured, so that there is not a chance of the Westerlords from regrouping and then launching another attack. They might be battered and broken for now, but they will emerge through this.”

“I agree with Lord Stark Your Grace,” says Lord Hoster. “We might have won this battle, but there will be more and we must ensure that all of our borders are protected. There is chaos within the reach and gods alone know what is happening in the Stormlands we cannot be too careful.”

Aegon looks at both men then and says. “Very well, send word to the Mootons and to your other lords my lord, have them fortify their defences. Of course I will not merely sit here and wait for things to happen. I mean to make them happen. Lord Stark, you and your men shall go into the Westerlands, turn it into a crisp if you must, but destroy any resistance there might be.”

A strange look passes over Lord Stark’s face, but he merely nods his head. “Yes Your Grace.”

“And what of yourself Your Grace? Where shall you go?” Lord Manwoody asks.

Aegon looks at the man, and he knows that the Dornishmen and women with him have been quite disgruntled since uncle Oberyn’s death, he is now their sole commander and as such he expects them to test him a lot during the coming months. Still he is their king and they will do as he says. “I shall command a host of Dornishmen and Rivermen and march for King’s Landing. It is time we brought the challenge to the Baratheons. I will take my throne and I will take it sooner rather than later.”

There is a long silence at this and then Lord Fowler asks. “Is that a wise move Your Grace? Would they not be expecting as such?”

Aegon bands his hand down on the table and says sharply. “I am the king and I will take what is mine by right. I will remove the evil from the kingdoms and see it set to rights.”


	41. A Lover's Meeting

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Griffin’s Roost**

**Prince Jon Targaryen**

It had taken them far too long to reach Griffin’s Roost, a journey that should have only taken a week at most had taken them some two weeks, there was something not right within the Stormlands, and Jon could sense it and he knew his men sensed it as well. What it was though, he did not know, and that mere thought was beginning to nag at him. He wanted to know what was causing them all this sense of discomfort but he was sceptical of whether or not they would find any answers. He knew that coming here to speak to the prisoner was useless, she would not tell him any more than she had already done so, and yet he found that he needed to speak with her.

Daenaerys Targaryen was his aunt, that much was true, she looked little like him, that much was true, but there was also the fact that she looked little like Aegon as well, her hair was far more pale than his brother’s and her eyes was far more scared than his had ever been. Jon takes a deep breath and asks. “You are well my princess?”

His aunt- a strange thought that- looks at him and replies. “I am, though I do not know why it is any of your concern.”

“Why would it not be my concern my princess?” Jon asks surprised. “You are my guest, and we are family, it is only right that I see to it that you are cared for.”

The girl before him snorts and replies. “So you keep saying, though I have yet to see any proof of this connection you speak of. You look more like a Northman than any Targaryen.”

Though he has spoken to his uncle Benjen about this, it still feels like a slap to the face when he hears her say that. Sighing he says. “As I have told you many times before, my uncle, Lord Stark told me the truth of my parentage, he provided me with clear evidence of that and as such the acceptance that I have got from the king and the queen is clear enough for me. Surely you heard of the rumours in Essos. After the person you told me helped you and your brother was long working for an ally of the king’s.”

His aunt looks at him a moment and then says. “The fact that we never knew anything about any of you, makes me wonder if any of this is true. Or whether the usurper and his dogs are looking for a way to lure me into a false sense of security. Where is my brother?”

Jon swallows then noticing the shape of her body, he closes his eyes and then opens them again, to find his aunt looking at him intently. “Your brother is dead my princess, slain during the fighting. I have already told you this.”

“No, you have told me a lie. Similar to how you lied about all that you said before. My brother and his army was winning the fighting, you, you said. So how could they have lost to you and your ragtag army?” his aunt asks.

Jon swallows and clenches his fists, frustration is growing within him now. “Because your brother was not a good fighter. He was a poor commander and the Golden Company are not good enough to beat the Lords of the Stormlands within their own home. That is why your brother is dead and I am here now speaking to you. Why did you think anything else would happen? Just how naïve are you?”

He feels regret at the harshness of his tone when he sees the hurt on her face, such a beautiful face should never have such hurt on it. He shakes his head at the thought, but before he can speak his aunt speaks. “You would not dare speak to me like that if you knew just who I was. I am the last of an old bloodline, I am not some pretender, and my parentage is unquestionable. You are nothing but a pretender.”

His patience is beginning to wane, Jon looks at his aunt in exasperation and responds. “You are nothing now Daenaerys. Your brother is dead, and your army has fled. You are my guest here, and I suggest you listen to me when I tell you that if you dare speak a word against my brother the king or my sister, you shall know the end of your petty life.”

The girl looks at him then her eyes wide. “You would not dare. You are a bastard of a traitor, you would not dare.”

Jon goes up to her then and stares down at her and responds. “Do not think to tell me what I will and will not do. I am a prince, for now you are nothing but a guest. Remember that, do not forget it, or you shall live to regret it.” With that he turns and leaves the room. His heart is thumping with anger, but also with her smell, gods, he does not know what is coming over him. Lusting after his aunt, what is the world coming to?

He walks back to his own room, and when he arrives he finds his uncle Benjen already sat there. “Well what took you so long? I was going to look for you.” his uncle quips.

“I was speaking to her again.” Jon grumbles.

“Oh you were, were you? And how did that go for you?” his uncle replies.

Jon merely looks at his uncle and then responds. “You know damned well how it went. She refuses to see the truth even when it is there dangling before her very damned eyes.”

His uncle merely snorts. “Well, we do not see that which we do not wish to see. Give it time, eventually she will come to her senses.”

“And if she does not?” Jon asks.

“Then you will need to remove her.” his uncle responds.


	42. The Wolf Is Loose

**6th Month of 298 A.C. Pendric Hills**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

They had marched from Riverrun, some thirty thousand strong, all northmen, determined to rain havoc and chaos down upon the Westerlands. Ned was not entirely sure what he made of that order, but he would do his duty, he was no fool, he knew he needed to prove his loyalty to his new king. Merely being Jon’s uncle would not be good enough, Aegon Targaryen had grown up learning of the rebellion and the root causes of it, there was much and more he would need to explain to all the boys when this was said and done, if he lived through it all that is. Looking at Robb, his eldest son and heir, Ned feels a twinge of pride, his son is to be a father soon, and as such he knows his son hopes to be there for the birth, as Ned does. Soon enough he hoped they would be back in Winterfell, away from the dangers of war, gods alone knew what would come in the future.

But for now that is not a concern, the army in front of him is. The Lannister army, what was left of it after Tumblestone had regrouped under Lord Crakehall’s command and as such has been spending time within the hills, Ned has found them though, or rather those who came from further north found them with methods he would rather not think about. The army is there before them, weapons drawn, Ned himself can feel his heart hammering in his chest, something deep inside him knows something is going to happen, exactly what it is he does not know, but he knows that something will most definitely happen. Regardless, he commands from the front as he has always done, Robb by his side, this time there will be no risks, he must keep his son safe, for all their sakes. He knows that, knows that he could never live with himself should Robb die. And so he tries to calm himself, takes a deep breath and then nods. As the horn is sounded, the men form for war, and the march begins.

It begins with a slow trot, the horses not stressing too much, willing to move forward, Ned can see his son’s direwolf at his side, moving slowly and firmly. His heart quickens in pace, the enemy is remaining still, no doubt some plan on their mind. He digs his spurs in slightly, his horse moves quicker now, a trot quickening in pace, his men follow. The enemy begins to move, he can see the tension in their muscles, their knights have their lances raised, but they will shatter when the full charge comes. He draws his sword, and the charge begins. His men abandon restraint, and the charge that won his great grandfather the battle of Winterfell is put into use here. His men come charging forward forcing the Westermen to come spilling forth.  Their lances drop when they see the dangers coming toward them, more beast than man, and the men of the greater north come charging forward roaring their guttural cries. Ned roars alongside them and enters the crash.

Ice is heavy in his hands, he swings it like a man possessed, and he does not know whether it is the sounds of primal destruction raging around him, but he knows that he cannot break his focus, doing that would merely allow for one of them to come for him. Ned swings his sword, keeping a close eye on where Robb is, his son’s direwolf is carving a bloody path through them all. Swinging his sword, he continues pushing through the destruction and chaos, his sword his guide and anchor, preventing him from breaking off into the oblivion he knows is around the corner. Men are fighting and dying, somewhere in the distance, he can hear their screams, but before him all is silent, all he sees are men coming to die at his hand. Men he knows he should think more about, but truly cannot bring himself to do so. Instead he merely cuts through them, slashing and swinging, doing as he can to bring them down to their knees.

Battle does strange things to men, it can turn some into the biggest thinkers in their entire lives, and others it can turn into scared shits. Ned has never known which one he is, for he has felt both afflictions at one point or another during the course of his life. He swings his sword and tries not to curse when he feels blows land on his armour, he knows there will be wounds and bruises there come the morrow, but for now he is set on fighting and ensuring none can get past him onto the field.  Chaos runs around him, the guttural cries of the men he had brought with him, and his own men, they fight with a savage joy that Ned has never truly been able to understand. He continues fighting, swinging his sword, slashing away doing all he can to ensure the men before him do not rise again. His arms are aching, but he will not stop, not now, he has committed and he shall continue onward through the fog that is quickly capturing the land before him.

There is a dull ache in his sides, a throbbing in his head, but he continues onward regardless, he knows that there cannot be time for regret now. He has made his decision, and though he still finds himself wondering about declaring for King Aegon, he knows he cannot break the promise he made to Jon. Lyanna’s son has a pull on him that he has never truly been able to explain, but it is there nonetheless, and so he continues onward, Ice swinging like the anchor it is. He pushes through the men that stand in his way carving a bloody path through them not caring for their state of mind, his own not so strong through the course of this battle. The sun pierces through the fog, and wolves howl, and the men of the west flee. “After them!” he growls.


	43. Ironborn

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. Sunset Sea**

**Victarion Greyjoy**

It felt good to be raiding once more, to be out on the open sea, the wood of his ship beneath his feet. There was no need to hide now, no need for them to ever hide what they were again. Balon had promised them riches beyond their wildest dreams, and now they were to conquer those lands that had once belonged to them in ages past. When Balon had donned the crown of kings once more, the traditions had been brought back to life. There would be no hiding this time, there would be no cowering, this time they would do as their ancestors had done and they would attack and kill and conquer. Already Fair Isle was theirs, Kayce and Feastfires had been sacked and left asunder, now they were to take the Shield Islands they would face down the threats that had stopped them before.

The Greenlanders do their credit are not balking from this, they are coming to meet them on their own ships, and their own men are coming screaming for battle. Victarion watches as their ships draw nearer and he feels his heart beat quicken. He is not a religious man, the only things he prays to be his axe and the call of battle, but he knows that when the time comes he will dine in the Drowned God’s watery halls. He has lived a true life, a pure life there is nothing left but to fight. As their ships ram into one another, Victarion roars and then the fighting begins. It is pure and honest, his axe sings as it tastes the first blood it has tasted for five years. The fighting rages on, Victarion swinging his axe like a man possessed, determinedly swinging and killing.

His armour does not way him down the way it weighs the Greenlanders down, for he sees some wearing armour, struggling to cope with its weight. He has always marvelled at that, that they would be so scared to fight with armour on, yet they call the Ironborn cowards. Pah! His people are not cowards they ruled the seas once, and they shall rule them again, Balon has promised them this, and it shall be so. Balon has never lied before, never cheated before, Balon is a true king. Victarion roars a challenge and meets those who come to fight him with a grin. He kills two of them in a single blow, brings another crashing down to his knees. The fighting goes around him and he moves about barking orders, this is how it was supposed to be, and this is his way of life, their way of life, none of this Greenlander nonsense. The axe is his weapon of choice, it always has been ever since he was a boy, learning at his father’s knee, he has always wished to fight and to fight with an axe the same weapon his father wielded, and well that was only part of the reason why he used it. Another was that it was another thing that Euron could not do, and growing up, that meant the world.

 Euron, that foul beast of a man, who was neither a true Ironborn nor a true man. Victarion feels the anger grow inside him at the thought of that fool. Euron, the man who cost him a wife, the man who would bring death and destruction with him wherever he went. Gods, his anger is growing now. More men are falling, down bleeding, Victarion roars in triumph as he moves on swinging his axe, slashing and killing. Men are nothing compared to him, he who has been blessed by the Drowned God, he who has walked where not even Balon has walked. He fights and fights, and he knows he cannot die, for to die would be to break the pact, and the pact cannot be broken. Victarion knows this, for his brother has told him this, and so he continues, heedless of the dangers that most normal men would consider. He pushes on swinging his axe like a mad man, a man who knows just what it is he is there for, and so it goes. The Greenlanders look lost on their ships, they have grown complacent, and soft. They do not know the waves, and the waves do not know them. He laughs and swings his axe once more.

The armour is chafing now, and he wonders at that, there is something within his gut that is making him wonder if there is more to come, one can never be too sure with these Greenlanders, they are more traitorous than his own people. Though of course they would never admit such a thing. They have their precious honour, well he spits on that honour, there are only two things in this world, life and death, what you do with your life should be of your own making, not judged by some damned code. His axe carves out another face and he moves onto another ship. His men are following, the fighting is going well, he knows that, still he presses on, swinging his axe carving through those not smart enough to get out of the way. His men follow him the tide turning and making them grow stronger and show their true colours. On they fight, swinging their weapons, barking their oaths, doing all they can to bring down the men before them. Victarion leads this charge, destroying and slaughtering those who dare defy him.

His body is weary now, there are bruises where before there were none. His mind is slowing down, his arms ache, but still he goes on, swinging his axe as if it is something to be cherished, it is he supposes. Something that must be done to ensure that all is not lost, he continues on through the dim in his mind, slowly but surely he can see a flagship somewhere in the distance. But just as he advances on it, he hears a siren call out his name, and then he is falling, falling into the Drowned God’s Watery embrace, the lie confirmed, for all that stares at him is a crow’s eye.


	44. Give Up The Kick

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. **

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

It had taken time to muster the number of men needed to launch a successful attack on King’s Landing. The Riverlords had gathered in great numbers, and the Dornish lords had rallied themselves from their grief and anger at loved ones lost. As they had marched more men had joined them, Jon had brought the lords of the Stormlands with him from the doom kingdom that was to be his home. And so they had marched forth toward the city he had not seen since he was a babe. The Lannisters of course were not going to give up without a fight, and there had been some fighting within the crownlands but now the city was before them and Aegon could feel his heart beat quickening.

The gates are battered down, their resistance is futile, Aegon smiles at this and leads his men and women through the breach. There are men there waiting for him, they come calling now swinging their weapons. The members of the Lannister city watch, it seems they are determined to fight for Lannister coin despite being outnumbered. Aegon draws his sword and swings it with a mad determination, certain that this time none will prevent him from claiming the throne. His sword leads the way, the charge coming at full pelt now, his heart is racing inside his chest. He can sense it, the throne, his birthright, it is close, so very close. He swings his sword and watches as men fall to their deaths. A laugh comes forth and they push on edging ever closer toward the Red Keep and his destiny.

He wishes that Rhaenys were here, she should be, she should be by his side, but she is at Nightsong, pregnant, and so she is not here. He pushes thoughts of her from his mind, he can think on her later, now he must be a king. He leads his men through the city, killing those who put up a resistance, those who wear the red of House Lannister die a most painful death, all else fight alongside him, determined not to suffer the dragon’s wrath. He roars a command and watches as his men flock to over flow the struggling city watch and red cloaks. He laughs at this, calling out for Tywin Lannister, he wants the man who killed his mother to be brought before him. He will see him brought to justice. He wants Gregor Clegane, and Armory Lorch he wants them killed, and he wants to be the one to do the deed.

On they go, pushing through the rush, swinging and slashing, men come and go, they fall down and die. Aegon continues onward, not caring for whether they are common or noble born, he will kill them all if they stand in the way of his throne. He continues onward, swinging his sword, barking orders, watching as the city falls to him and his. The blood rush is intoxicating, and so he pushes on, driving things further and further allowing himself to begin considering the throne. He continues onward, barking commands, roaring this, that and the other. Determined to never allow a moment’s respite for now.  He can see the lions buckling under the pressure. He knows success is just a moment away, on they go, through the carnage. Through it all, Aegon can see Rhaenys in his mind’s eye, determined to end this war once and for all so that they might be together once more. He watches as his men fight, he sees a man he knows to be Bryce Caron disappear in the throng, and hopes that the man never emerges from the fight.

The fighting continues, through it all, through the breach they fight, swinging their swords, men are crying out for relief, and Aegon and his men are only too happy to give them it. He laughs, roars, and shouts, all the emotions he has been feeling through the war, it aches inside him, and he knows that sooner rather than later something else will happen. For now though he merely focuses on fighting, on ensuring that all is said and done. Soon enough resistance falters, and there is nothing but the hill standing in his way, barking commands he spurs his horse on and pushes through the throng. The hill quickly disappears into nothingness, and the Red Keep is there before him, Aegon roars commands and the men guarding it are killed the doors are thrown open and there is more fighting.

The Kingsguard of the false king are killed and soon enough Aegon finds himself riding into the throne room. A sense of anticipation fills him, he stops his horse before the foot of the throne, sheaths his sword, dismounts and walks toward the throne. Feeling jubilant, dead bodies are across the floor, but he does not care, Aegon walks up the steps of the iron throne, reaching the top, he stops, turns round, sees his commanders there in the throne room with him all kneeling before him, he smiles and sits down, the throne feels just right.

* * *

 

**Westerlands**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

They had chased the cowards to somewhere deep within the Westerlands, the mountains of which were now proving to be quite troublesome to navigate. Ned knew that they had to end this fighting soon enough, for they could not keep chasing the Westermen throughout this terrain something bad would happen. He could feel it deep down inside, something always happened when he went riding through the mountains. Memories of the tower would not help him now and so he pushed them aside. Breathing a sigh of relief when it came forth that they had found the westermen. He took a deep breath then led his men into what he hoped would be one final battle.

The battle is a bloody one, there is something inside of him that just screams that this is not right, and there is more to it. But he cannot think on why that might be, instead he swings his sword, barks commands and allows the feeling of battle to rush over him. It is soothing to him just now, this feeling of fighting. It allows him to not focus simply on the destruction that they have been forced to reap on the Westerlands whilst chasing this damned army. He swings his sword and men come falling down. He sees images in his head, they plague him when he is awake, when he is asleep, they plague him and he resents them, but still they go on, swinging his sword, he goes on, watching as men fall down dead. He continues swinging his sword, hacking away at the bonds that tie these men to life, determined to never allow them a chance to come and threaten him or his.

Onward they go, through the commotion and chaos. The men before him are struggling, that much he can tell, they are not secure in their knowledge, they are not safe in the knowing of what is to come. It makes them hesitate, it makes them weak, and Ned knows how to exploit that, he has always known how to exploit that. Swings his sword, he pushes through it all, determined not to allow anything to deter him, he continues onward, swinging his sword, slashing and hacking, allowing it all to run through him. The pain, the noise, the sights, the sounds, all of it washes over him and still he goes onward. There is no going back now, there is no turning back on what has happened.

He continues onward, slashing and swinging, barking commands, his son by his side, his son and his pride. He swings his sword, moving through it all, hacking away at the bonds of the Westermen, determined to end the fighting now before it can escalate into something else. He will not continue this damned charade, the Westermen know they are beat, they must do, and yet he does not know why they continue fighting as they do. Soon enough they stop though, and as they throw down their weapons, Ned sees a company riding toward him flying a white flag, and before him Lannisport glistens in the distance.


	45. Dragon

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Prince Jon Targaryen**

“You wished to see me Your Grace?” Jon asks, looking at his brother, who looks rather tired.

His brother nods and responds. “I did. Sit down Jon.” Jon takes a seat opposite his brother and waits for him to begin speaking. “The war is over, we have won. Word has come from the west of the Westerlords submission, your uncle did well there. The Reach is settling down now, I have granted Daeron Rowan Highgarden as a reward for his services. The Lannisters will pay their reparations to the crown and to others as well, there will be no more Lannister dominance.”

“A good thing that Your Grace. We both know that they were growing far too powerful. And yet the Greyjoys remain a threat do they not? Balon Greyjoy has not stopped his daughter from raiding the coasts despite the defeat of the Iron Fleet by the Redwyne Fleet.” Jon responds.

“Greyjoy will be dealt with, Varys tells me that there is rebellion brewing on the islands against Balon. Soon enough he will be gone and his son shall sit in his place.” Aegon replies.

Jon merely nods at this. “A wise decision, Theon Greyjoy shall be a good puppet to control the islands with.”

“I know that. But there is another issue that I wished to discuss with you. I have my Kingsguard, and my small council is relatively sorted, but there is one position that needs filling.” The king says.

Whilst Jon has his own thoughts about who the king has named to the Kingsguard as well as to some of the positions of small council, he merely says. “My uncle, or Prince Doran might be good choices Your Grace.”

“Indeed they might be, but they are not kin. The lords of the realm will never accept Rhaenys as hand, despite the fact that she would do a far better job than most of these fools. But no, I need someone who has fought for me and who I trust. Jon I wish for you to be my hand.” his brother says.

Jon is surprised momentarily but then merely responds. “I… I accept Your Grace. I am honoured.”

His brother merely smiles. “Good. Now there is one other issue I wished to speak to you about. Our aunt, what would you make of her?”

Jon grimaces slightly at the thought of the woman and merely says. “She is a pain in the arse, an entitled brat who I think is more of a danger than any true woman should be. But she is family at the same time.”

His brother merely nods and says. “In that instance I think you are best placed to deal with her Jon. There are those who would see you married to her, or me to her. But there is only one person I wish to marry and with her husband’s death during the taking of King’s Landing I mean to make her my wife.”

Jon can honestly say that he is not surprised, instead he merely says. “I shall take charge over Daenaerys Your Grace.”

* * *

 

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

Aegon looks at his sister, his heart thumping in his chest. He has missed her, gods has he missed her.  As they embrace he whispers. “I love you.” He pulls back and kisses her, her face, her nose, her mouth, all of it he kisses and drinks her in, never does he wish to be parted from her ever again.

His sister smiles and replies. “I love you, Your Grace.”

Aegon looks at the bundle in her arms and asks. “Is that our daughter?”

His wife nods and as she allows him to see their daughter for the first time, Aegon feels his heart melt a little. “I named her Daenys after the Dreamer. I thought it fitting.”

Aegon smiles then. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. She shall have anything she could ever wish for.” he pauses for a moment and then asks. “Will you marry me Rhae?”

His sister merely looks at him and then she smiles. “Need you even ask, of course I will.”

Their betrothal is announced soon after that and though there are some weak hearted protests, none truly object, they are Targaryens after all. They are wed in the Great Sept of Baelor some two days later, to great fanfare, and Aegon could not be happier. Of course a week later they are crowned King and Queen of Westeros together, just as they always should have been.

When the trials come, Rhaenys is by his side, as he passes judgement on all those who have done wrong to their family. Tywin Lannister, Kevan Lannister, Cersei Lannister and her ill-gotten get are all killed hung up to dry. As to the Baratheons of Dragonstone, Selyse Florent is sent to the Silent Sisters and her daughter Shireen is given to the faith, no Baratheons shall trouble them ever again.  The Greyjoys are dealt with by the Redwynes and all seems well with the world for now. Aegon thinks as he looks at his wife, he smiles, winning this throne would not have been half as nice as it is, without his love by his side. His brother helped as well, the three heads of the dragon roared together and Westeros was theirs once more. 


End file.
